thirty four

A few days ago I turned 34.

I used to love birthdays; no matter now old I got, I never felt as though I was getting old – just older – which was good.

Since having kids I’m constantly being reminded of my age. My daughter’s first birthday was probably the first time I actually realised I was ageing; less supple skin, darker eyes, a few more greys – no doubt the effects of a years worth of broken sleep… It dawned on me that despite my best efforts SHE was growing up, which meant that alas, so was I.

And now that my baby is six months old, he’s starting to move (!!) and grabbing at food… sure signs that he’s no longer a wee squish and half way towards one himself. Most days I still feel 30. Not quite as young and fresh as I was in my mid 20s, waltzing around with my new love with the world at our feet, but that easy, comfortable stage of adulthood where you know who you are and with whom you want to be. Where waking up next to your love is is a comfort and a joy, familiar and sweet. Where you feel old enough to have it together and young enough to take each day for granted.

And other days I look in the mirror and see that I’m no longer the spring chicken that I think I am, that I am indeed approaching middle age and that if ever there was a time for me to focus on health, this is it. Now, while I’m old enough to understand and appreciate *wellness* and to not get caught up in looking hot/being skinny/getting my abs ready for summer, and young enough to have a body that will still respond well to change.

Here in my thirty fifth year I have a few goals, which are different to past superficial objectives, and better reflect my gently gently approach to life.

words to live by

I’ve learnt that for me, committing to big, hairy audacious goals online doesn’t actually work. That biting the bullet and registering for a half marathon 6 months out won’t make me get off my bum and run. That diarising three cardio and three resistant training sessions a week won’t translate to me being the very best version of me. That keeping a food diary won’t actually keep me accountable… To the contrary, I slide into the comfort of familiar failure and grand plans that float around only in cyberspace.

For me it’s just about being mindful. About paying attention to my body and how it feels. About making small adjustments that I can stick to, rather than sweeping change. So far it seems to be working out alright. I salute the sun 3-4 times every morning. I do an online yoga class once a week. I read every day, I limit my social media time (i’ve found it has by far the most draining effect on my mental health and productivity), I choose good food and don’t beat myself up when I consume the opposite. I’ve cut down my caffeine.

And I feel good. I stand next to my husband and look in the mirror and instead of lamenting the time that’s gone by I’m excited that I am growing older with the man I love. Instead of wishing my sun salutations were stronger or a little more graceful I celebrate that my daughter wants to stretch beside me. I marvel at my little one’s joyous face and smiling eyes and feel honoured when I’m told he looks just like me, because it encourages me to smile more.

self portrait

Life is good.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: i’m doing the Whole 30 | Natal Days Health & Fitness

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Two Beautiful Bunnies

I'm a mama to two beautiful babies. I have started this blog to gather my thoughts and try to improve who I am as a person but particularly as a mother, wife, daughter and sister.

Gabrielle Bernstein, Inc.

Become the happiest person you know!

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