J'ai trente-cinq ans.

Trente-cinq.  Thirty-five.

How did I get here?  Yesterday morning I was thinking, "Wow, that's halfway to forty.  No, wait, it's halfway through my thirties to forty.  It's actually halfway to seventy.  Uh.  Whoa."  That certainly put it in perspective.

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I hate when women lie about their age.  I will never be one of those women because I believe in fully owning your age.  Sometimes, however, I do complain about my age.  There isn't enough money in the world to make me agree to be a teenager again.  I really liked being twenty-five.  I liked being twenty-nine.  Thirty was okay.  Since then, though, I haven't found much to like about my age.  My life, yes, but not my age - so I wonder if the secret of your thirties is that they're really not about being in your thirties.

Since turning thirty-four, I celebrated my first wedding anniversary and had a baby.  Pretty big things.  Things that are far bigger than the number that marks my years.  Before my next year marker, I'll have a son who's walking and talking.  That is certainly bigger than increasing a number.  And he'll have his first birthday.  That number matters.

So I'm halfway to seventy today.  I'm tempted to tell people that when they ask how old I am.  Last year I probably wrote my birthday post sitting at a desk, uninterrupted.  This year I wrote it while sitting on the floor next to my son, who was playing on his activity mat, and I interrupted this post sentence by sentence to look at him, interact with him, laugh at him, and with him.

This year, that is what my life became about - creating his life and shaping it.

That said, I've been feeling a sense of renewal since attending BlogHer a week and a half ago.  I streamlined my Twitter and Google Reader feeds and am loving the free time I've found by doing that.  I've started looking discerningly at my wardrobe, trying to figure out how I can liven it up and make it feel more like "me" again.  I've been looking for a new home - one that will suit our needs and allow us the space we need, space to play and breathe, the two biggest things I feel like we are (I am) missing right now.  I get to teach at work for the rest of the year, something that always helps me feel like me.

So I feel like my journey is starting a new chapter this year in several significant ways.  I'm figuring out what it means for me to be a mother.  I'm still learning in my marriage, sometimes every day.  I'm still developing my career.  I'm still a student - and I love it that way.  I don't ever want to stop learning or stop trying to improve my life.

And none of that will ever have anything to do with the number of candles on my cake.  In fact, I'm not even having a birthday cake this year - and that's not on purpose, but it's fitting.  It's just what my life is now.  The hubby won't be home from work until 10pm and we have a busy week beyond that.  My life is no longer about wondering about presents (or even expecting any) and getting people together for a day about me.  Today is just a day like any other this month.  It sounds melancholy but it's not.  It does, though, feel more grown up than I feel.

Are we not supposed to care about our birthdays as we age?  Are we not supposed to still want that day - or at least a little of that day - to just be about us?  I'm not that grown up yet.

So maybe I'll go buy myself a cupcake later and stick a candle in it.  Nate can't sing "Happy Birthday" but he'll give me a big smile and that will do just fine.

Because it was Lauren of The Little Things We Do's birthday yesterday (Happy Birthday Lauren!), she posted a birthday edition of her "Fill in the Blank Friday" series.  I already wrote a post today, but it's my birthday in four days so I figured I can post twice today. (It's my birthday and I'll post twice if I want to, twice if I want to...)

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1. Birthdays are different than they used to be.  I used to be huge about my birthday - who doesn't love their own personal holiday?  But after 30, their importance just dwindled.  And this year, with Nate, it feels completely irrelevant.

2. My favorite birthday memory is a tie between 16, 25, and 30.  16: my parents rented a condo down the shore and we spent the week there.  As a 16 year old, anything that got me away from my hometown and my incredibly boring summers made me happy.  I was able to wander around the boardwalk by myself or with my sibs and keep to myself instead of being home and feeling bad about not having more friends.

25: I decided my party should be at Mike's in Baltimore so I rounded up my friends from NY/NJ and drove to MD at about 100mph and we had a great party.  So great the cops showed up.  So great that I believe I explained they couldn't arrest me for being loud or send me home "becuz it's my birfday!"  I loved being 25.

30: Three decades, three parties: one with family, one with local friends, one in Baltimore.

I just realized, turning 35 this year, I should be having a party in Baltimore.

3. A birthday tradition I (or my family) has is ice cream cake.  Having an August birthday means always having ice cream cake, which is fine by me.

4. If I had to choose one birthday meal to eat for the rest of my birthdays hence forward, I would choose pizza, much to the hubby's chagrin.  What can I say, I love pizza (real pizza, pizzeria pizza, not like Domino's or something).

5. My birthday is on August 17th - this Tuesday!  (At 11:51pm if you want to be specific)

6. If I could take a birthday trip, I would go to Paris, sit at a sidewalk cafe, order a cafe latte and a croissant, people watch, and eavesdrop in French.

7. The best gift I've ever received for my birthday was ... wow, I'm drawing a blank.  That kind of sucks for anyone who's ever given me a present.  I've gotten some great presents (a bike, things from Etsy, jewelry) but I can't think of something that's the one best gift ever.  If I come up with something later, I'll revise this but I've been thinking about it all day and haven't come up with one.  I think it's just that my birthdays have always been more about having dinner with family and friends and not about the gifts.  I'd rather have the gift of time with the ones I love.

How about you all?

P.S. Happy Friday the 13th!!