No. Today’s not my birthday, but an Instagram photo from another blogger, Danimezza, got me thinking.
Along with her photo, she added the caption, “27 feels good”. Automatically, I did the mental maths and noted how many years older I was than her. Did it make me feel really old and wistful for my younger days? Just a tad. Moreso however, it made me wonder whether I really wanted to be 27 again.
My last major “freak-out” birthday was when I turned 25. On reflection, that sounds hilarious, given that I’m now in my 40s!
In many ways, I’ve grown more comfortable in my own skin as I have gotten older. I’m generally okay with my age, although I have to admit I’m getting a little restless about my next milestone birthday. As to the idea of looking my age, I’m not quite so at peace with that. But for now I am happy I can say, “Thank you, genetics! Thank you, hair dye!”
So back to the question; do I want to be 27 again?
The bottom line; I only want to be 27 again for the extra years it might afford me in my life.
Yes, hindsight is 20-20. Yes, I did recently write a post about seizing the day, every day, because we don’t know how many days are gifted to us in life.
But I can’t help feeling a little greedy about “time”, especially now I have two little girls in my life. Because I started my family late, I’ll have less real time with them, and they’ll less with me. On occasions, I feel a little sad about that.
Right now, as I struggle under a persistent haze of tiredness, it’s been hard to consciously make each day count. Sometimes I just think I have to hang in there because my sleep will return as they get a little older. Yet, as a friend reminded me, “Kids grow up in the blink of an eye. I don’t want to blink and miss it.” And if there’s anything that brings “mummy guilt” to the boil for me, it’s feeling I’m missing out on them as they grow and change daily. But for now, I live in that tension for I don’t know how else to function with a mind that is running mostly on auto-pilot.
Maybe, by my next birthday, I will feel more in control of how my days go. And maybe I’ll find a way to juggle these responsibilities of life, parenting and work better. I can only but make it my goal. Giving up is not an option.
How do birthdays affect you? Do you get reflective, wistful, regretful, excited? Or do you forget them, like I almost did mine this year?
I’m linking with Jess from Diary of a SAHM for IBOT.