Thirty, flirty, and bloated

This week I celebrated the big 3-0, and I couldn’t be more excited.

Many people dread turning 30, but I’ve been looking forward to this milestone for years. I really enjoyed my 20s, but I think they were simply a pregame to what’s about to be the best decade yet.

Thirty is an age I’ve dreamed about for a long time; however, I didn’t celebrate quite as I always envisioned. I always saw myself going all out with a huge party, but the only bottle I was poppin’ this year was my Bonjesta nausea pills. [Aka: Magic pills sent directly from God.]

My 30th didn’t include a lavish, boozy party, but instead featured an impromptu mid-day pajama party, watching chick flicks, a nice dinner with my parents, pizza, and a work out class. It may sound lame to some, but for me, it was perfect. It was a sober soirée spent with the people I love, including the tiny human growing in my belly.

As I begin this next chapter, I think it’s only fair to give my 20s a proper goodbye by looking back at some of my fondest memories, including my time spent at the University of Alabama where I met my husband, Patrick. It also included the start of my career in journalism, moving home to Atlanta, getting married, traveling with friends, buying a home, and learning many life lessons. [Choose your battles, y’all. Also, invest in some Poo Pourri.]

I loved my 20s, but I’m so ready for what’s in store next and I’m beyond thrilled to be 30, flirty [ish], and bloated. OH so bloated! [Hoping that bloat turns to a bump soon.]

SHIT = So happy I’m Thirty.

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