I’m sitting on the couch, on a wet Friday night, wrapped in a blanket, sipping a gin and tonic.
My husband is upstairs – wrestling with wrapping paper I hope.
We’ve a playlist to agree, another drink to have and then my thirties will be over.
They started in Venice, at 30 I was all about the travel back then and determined to be out of the country for my birthday.
We moved to Gorey and I started a new job the same year, newlyweds setting up home, full of anticipation.
With just the two of us we worked hard and when we weren’t working we travelled, to South East Asia, Barcelona, Jordan and Egypt.
Babies followed, our Cubs.
The rest of the years slid past, babies, redundancy, work. New experiences with the kids. Tiredness. A new type of happiness. Starting blogging, getting published, making new friends.
My thirties have been good to me. Busy years, tired years, happy years. Sure, there were bumps along the road, but the overwhelming feeling looking back over the decade is happy memories of times spent with family and friends.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up when a child sits on my head or tugs at my arm. No alarms. Great planning having a weekend birthday.
It probably won’t feel any different than last Saturday or the one before that. But it’ll be a whole new decade. A fresh page to start.
I’m excited.
Bring it on!
