So I Turned 32.
Yes, that happened. I’m still here to tell the story, not having quite shuffled off the mortal coil at this advanced age. I don’t see any additional wrinkles for the time being, although I would assume if they existed, that they would be more work and sleeplessness and Noelle-related than specific to aging.
32 was surprisingly uneventful. And, more surprisingly, I liked it.
The Worst Cold Ever decided to take up residency in my sinus cavities during the week leading up to the festal occasion, which meant I was cranky, tired and had a box of tissues permanently attached to my person. I even semi-lost my voice, so that I sounded like the little Penguin Guy from Toy Story when he has the misfortune to break his little squeaker.
At work, people kept asking in the days leading up, “What are you doing to celebrate?” And, to wit, I said, “Nothing,” proving that my old age has made me a veritable and actual stick-in-the-mud. I honestly just couldn’t think anything beyond how bad I needed Kleenex and how I could finish talking without being completely disgraced.
But, beginning on Friday, my peeps nonetheless came through and made my birthday a day to remember.
Okay, actually two. I mean, you couldn’t expect me to celebrate on just one day, as a commoner might, would you? One cannot celebrate one’s natal day with only one 24-hour period, I say.
When I got to work on my pre-birthday birthday, my office was A-MAZ-ING. One of my coworkers was responsible for making the world’s greatest banner and hanging it, and then also immortalizing my love for Dr Pepper with what was probably the world’s greatest shrine to The 23 Flavors outside of Waco itself.
The banner… it made me cry. In fact, there were a lot of tears that day, which, mixed with the cold and the incipient sinus concerns made for a somewhat gruesome situation… but I digress. The banner was amazing. All my coworkers wrote personal messages that showed their personalities and our friendships. It was such a proof of the relationships and collaborative spirit we’ve built… when people are seamlessly throwing in Game of Thrones and Mean Girls and Bible verses and Hamilton and Jane Austen and Baylor – I mean, seriously, we know and love each other. So, yes, tears.
And then, there were chips and queso. And there was Dr Pepper cake (seriously, props to MH for overcoming his Aggie-love in order to Waco things up for the day). And there were presents. And some… okay, several… of the presents were wine.
And guys, that was just my work birthday.
On my actual-real-birthday birthday, there was an exuberance of Noelle hugs and kisses. Seriously, she is so kissable these days, and so snuggly. Perfect child. For our family birthday outing, we went to South Alamode Panini and Gelato, which I shall review on another day, but I’ll just say, GO THERE.
Noelle learned how to say “hap-bir-day” also, which, pardon the sappiness, but I’m still going to say this, was the greatest present of all (so, thanks, Will, and you could also have saved a lot of money on the other very nice presents you got me, and just focused your efforts on continually and exponentially upping the baby-person’s cuteness factor).
So, all in all, turning 32 included gelato, baby pool splashing, Dr Pepper popcorn (which, whoa, is like a total conundrum in your mouth), friends, family and not a single regret about getting older. Not too bad, and the year is already full of intrigue and opportunity from here.