I'm freaking. Really truly freaking. In 21 days I'll be 30. I know I've been mildly freaked for some time that is date was approaching, but now that it's October, I'm REALLY freaking out! Why can't I just stay a kid forever, like on the Toys R' Us commercials?
I don't wanna grow up,
I'm a Toys R' Us kid
There's a million toys at
Toys R' Us that I can play with!
I don't wanna grow up
'cause if I did,
I wouldn't be a Toys R' Us kid!
When you're 30, you aren't supposed to do silly immature things like go to a midnight screening of Rocky Horror Picture show (not that I've done that in a loooooooooonnnngg time, but I might have the urge to do it soon), or seriously enjoy meals such as hot dogs and Spaghetti O's washed down with strawberry Kool-aid. Heck, I guess when you're 30 you're not supposed to hold your son down so you can fart on him, either, are you? While Jamie might enjoy the reprieve from that particular family ritual, I'll miss it greatly. It's really fun to watch him giggle and squirm and try to get away from me, pretending like he hates it but laughing so hard he's gasping for air (or is he gasping because I farted on him? Can't really say for sure). And did you know that after the age of 30, a woman's chances of having a meaningful relationship drop to about only 20%!?! So, I don't want to be 30 yet. Can I just refuse to acknowledge that Oct. 22 exists? Can we skip from 10/21/06 to 10/23/06 without that other day in between?
In other news:
1) Jamie's team got trounced in Saturday's game. There hasn't been a sporting event like that since the Romans stopped throwing Christians to the lions. Halfway through the third quarter, Jamie strained a muscle in his side and had to sit out the rest of the game. He's better today, but he's still sore. On a good note, though, he managed to get through the month of September without getting his pyramid down at school, so he earned a reward. He decided he didn't want to go to Build-a-Bear this time, so he picked out a new Avatar: The Last Airbender toy for his treat. I was happy as it was less than half the cost of a trip to B-A-B.
2) My first exam is today, and I am in no way ready for it. At least if I get a bad grade today, I'll have three more exams in that class to bring the average up.
3) I discovered yesterday that, despite the fact it had been 15 years since I last tried to do one, I can still do a cartwheel, straight as an arrow. Jamie was feeling better and was trying to do a cartwheel outside while I walked the dog, but was not being too successful. He looked more like he was trying to impersonate a hermit crab. I couldn't help but giggle, so he got all huffy and said he'd like to see me do one. Well, I did! I don't know who was more surprised, Jamie or me! (See, that's another reason why I can't be turning 30 yet. 30 year olds aren't supposed to be doing cartwheels out on the lawn, are they?)
Have a good day everyone!
Stinkbumps the Wonder Boy: The rants, ravings and ramblings of a lunatic, overachieving single mom.
15 comments:
aw, jenn, a lot of people say they're happier in their 30s than in their 20s. think about it-do you want to repeat the last decade? anyways, farting is ageless.
:)
And I've always heard that women are their most beautiful (or, at least, feel their most beautiful) in their 30's.
And I say, keep doing all that stuff, or I won't like you anymore. And fart on me next time you see me. I miss having friends who fart on me.
has noone told you 30 is the new 21? seriously, i have several good friends who met and married the loves of their lives AFTER 30, so relax a little bit. perhaps God is still perfecting him for you and jamie. and suze is right about the happier in their thirties buisness.
cora does most of the farting in our house. she's a champ--better than her uncle, grandpa and annie combined. and they barely smell!
I'll take all that you say under advisement, but I am - for right now, anyway - still refusing to acknowledge my entrance into my third decade. I might be ready to admit I'm 30 once I reach 40, though. :-)
Sweetie, you're completing your third decade and moving into your fourth. Hopefully, that will help, since you're been in your third decade and didn't know it!
(It's hard out here for a pimpyyp!)
AAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCK! You're right, Becca! Now why'd you have to go and tell me that!!!!!???!?!?
LOL!
I may not know my gerunds from a hole in the ground, but I know math!
Okay, is PIMPYYP an acronym for something, like Rao Fly Do? Or is it just your word verification? And I wouldn't mind being 30, if you'd like to switch for MY next birthday, which is also a decade.
Hi Jenn, Susan's friend Pam here. I just wanted to tell you first of all that I really enjoy your blog and also that I really, really freaked out before I turned 30. 29 was an AWFUL year! but a few months into the whole 30 thing, I realized I was still me and nothing had changed. That's when I found out for real that your age is really just how you feel inside. (Not to be corny). So, I totally sympathize, but just hang in there!! It will get better!
In response to the fact that I'm turning 30, I think I'm going to buy myself the following birthday and Christmas presents this year:
Animaniacs, Vol. 1 on DVD
Animaniacs, Vol. 2 on DVD
Avatar: The Last Airbender Book 2 on DVD
The Muppet Show, Season 1 on DVD
Fraggle Rock, Season 1 on DVD
Darkwing Duck on DVD
Chip N' Dale Rescue Rangers on DVD
Gee, I'm sensing a theme here, are you? LOL!
Thanks for all the words of encouragement. I don't really know why I'm freaking out so much, I just am. Maybe because this signals the end of my second childhood. Maybe it will just have the signal the beginning of my third childhood!
After 30 farting becomes more frequent, but less explosive.
Well, dang! The explosiveness is what makes it so much fun!
It's hard out here for a gerplimv, as well as for a pimpyyp. BTW - That song sooooo did not deserve all the hype it got!
Don't diss the song--they were just trying to make money for the rent. It was hoot seeing them perform at the Oscars, though!
And another thought on your 30 dilemma--if I could do cartwheels, I'd do 'em regardless of age (unless I was in danger of breaking a hip). I never could do them worth a darn, and I'm jealous of those who can.
Okay, if they need so bad to pay the rent, why don't they pry the diamonds (yes, folks, REAL diamonds) they had attached to their teeth and sell THOSE for rent money. I mean, talk about your conspicuous consumption! It's the nouveaux riches all over again. They have so much money they don't exhibit any real taste in spending it, just the desire to have "bling" to flaunt in front of everyone else. Okay, I'll step off my soap box now.
As for cartwheels, I guess I'll keep doing them so long as I'm limber enough...
Big hugs, and thanks to you all for making me feel better about the whole 30-thing!
I was actually making a joke based on the next line of the song, but you're right. Not only is all the money spent on that bling wasteful, but I find the gold teeth and huge rings very unattractive.
And, of course, since all the rappers are looking to impress me, specifically, it's important they should know this.
On the subject of nouveau riche--many years ago, Tom and I were driving through Paradise Valley (where a lot of ball players and generally rich people live in their huge houses with solid gold faucets) in his old '82 Chevy van. I made the joke that it was very obvious we were just passing through, and Tom said that the van didn't mean anything, that maybe we were old money like in New England.
I didn't understand till the first time we went to the Cape--rarely will you see some flashy, brand new under lease car (and if you do, it likely belongs to a tourist). The families with money are much more likely to drive old, salt-pitted, rusty wheel well Subarus.
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