You realize you’ve accomplished approximately 1/8 of the list you started 10 years ago…of the things you’d do before 30.
 Secretly you hope 20-somethings at the bar either a.) think you’re 28 or b.) think you’re the most badass 30-something they’ve ever met.
 Plans are made roughly three hours earlier than in your younger days.
Well, ideally I’d like to be in my pajamas on the couch by 9:30 – so, dinner at 6:30?
 You become much more accepting of your flaws, maybe because you’ve reached the perfect level of don’t-give-a-shits or, maybe you’re lucky and embrace them. Either way, this is a win for us 30-somethings.
 You take care of your body, before it’s sick. No. Not like working out…
 A night of excessive cocktails is rarely rewarded with chipper mornings and brunch.
 Friends start pointing out stray grey hairs that you’ve been wondering exist for the last 5 years.
 Your social media has become a plethora of pets and babies… and you like it.
 Your body has chosen its desired shape and weight, if you would like something different – good luck.
 The excitement level for a new lawn mower <insert any major appliance here> exceeds levels you didn’t know were possible in your 20s.
 You read and contribute reviews. Restaurants, mattresses, curtains, daycares, cars, pens, tables, music, hotels, dogs, movies… anything.
Not often do I use Properly Ridiculous for much more than to rant, rave and shove my opinions on everyone. Today, I am putting that aside and using this platform in an effort to help a family who recently lost their son, Logan.
I went to middle school and high school with both of Logan’s parents, and while we do not have a close relationship today – my heart is breaking for them. A blended family, both mom and dad having children from previous relationships – you have to believe that little Logan was the final piece that tied them all together.
Logan was only three months old when he passed away in his sleep during his afternoon nap, as a result of SIDS.
When I told my husband the sad news, conversationally he asked me if I thought it would be harder to lose a child that young, or after years and years have flown by. I know how it feels to grow a child in my body and lay eyes on him for the first time and the answer was easy – I think the sorrow and pain has to be so great, seemingly unbearable, regardless of age.
I do not know how they are getting by emotionally or financially so I am simply asking you to take this chance to eliminate even a small amount of stress this family is going through.
If you’re not able to contribute financially, all I ask is that you keep them in your thoughts and if you have children, give them an extra hug tonight.
I turned 32 this week and if I’m being honest, what I thought was going to be an extremely insignificant birthday turned out to be one of the best ever.
It all started with a local Soup Walk with my husband, followed by dinner and cocktails with friends. I thought the best part was when my dad, who’s not local, unexpectedly walked through my front door the next morning.
I’m sorry dad, but you’ve been bumped to second-best.
Happy B-Day Mom.
You’ve done soooooo much for us and I’m hoping I can do something in return, so I made you a present – but you may only get it when you’re done reading this letter.
[yes, I am fixing his grammar…]
Yay! It’s your b-day mom and you’re….AWESOME (Yes! You are the best).
I hope you like cake because I got you…more words on a sheet of paper!!
<C’mon, I know you’re laughing>
I hope you like cake though, because I got you… nothing, except…this grumpy cat.
<Just turn the page>
I hope you liked your card. I’ll make you another in 364 days. I just hope you like your gift.
Love, Bennett (your son) (Just look at the picture you old woman)
<It’s your b-day mom>
I’m still unsure how I feel about the old woman part and his need to remind me that he’s my son. Either way, it’s now documented and ready to share with future girlfriends should the opportunity present itself.