Yesterday I turned 30 years old and as we drove away from an indulgent pancake breakfast my baby said “mama.”
It was quite possibly just a convenient string of baby noises made at just the right moment, but for the ease of my memory and to forgive my baby for not getting me a present, I’m going with ‘Vivi said ‘Mama’ for the first time for my birthday.’ (She just said it again as I got her up from her nap so it must be a legit thing.) Sounds like a pretty good thing right? Sure! Developmental milestones! Some babies never say mama! She knows who I am!
I’m enjoying it and counting down the days until she begins overusing her new skill.
Once Addie learned ‘mama’ it never stopped. Seven years later I still hear it a hundred (thousand million) times a day. “Mom. Mom? Mom? MOOOM? Mom. MOM! MOOOOMMM!” It’s cool. I am the mom after all.
I’ve been 30 for just about 40 hours and it’s treated me well. I can now say obnoxious things like “In my 20’s…” or “Well, as someone in their 30’s…” not that I would ever do it. But it makes me drunk with elderly power knowing I could. Yesterday as I was getting my hair cut there were a half dozen girls there as well getting their hair done for prom. Oh my, prom feels like ages and eons ago. I wanted to take them by the shoulders and tell them “ENJOY THIS!” and “THIS TOO SHALL END!” simultaneously.
By the end of the week my long awaited baby will be one. Meaning I have spent 21 months of my own life enjoying her, dreaming about her and loving her.
She makes me so happy.
And after the last week? I’m enjoying leaving my 20’s behind and starting fresh with my 30’s.
I was there to photograph the birth of my nephew.