This is what thirty-seven looks like. (On the left, obvs.)

babe and me thanksgiving day

Thirty-seven means wearing hot pink tights with spotted ankle boots that make you taller than your husband. It means letting your kid go barefoot while wearing his fancy bow-tie. It means having a silly time with your adulthood. Thirty-seven is such a great time in your life because you’re ALIVE. Every age is a celebration. Celebrate being alive by letting your three year old buy you said spotted ankle boots for your birthday, and celebrate it by bourbon laced kisses until your lips hurt. That’s what I did anyways.

I turned thirty-seven the day after Thanksgiving. I celebrated my birthday with glorious rainy weather, a lot of coffee, bowling with my babes, and ended the whole day on a perfectly sweet note with a homemade cookie-inspired cake baked by the babes of my life. Black & White Cookies are my favorite, and this cake (by the ever amazing TakeaMegabite) ruled.

cake cake cake

Thirty-seven isn’t an age I’ve ever thought much about. I had thought about 35 (whoa, I’m an adult for real?) I have thought about 40 (and suddenly, I feel close enough to touch it).

Thirty-seven, for me, is recognizing that I’m mortal and trying to be brave enough every day not to let the fear of mortality lead to an unnecessary early death. There is zero sarcasm in that statement. The idea of mortality becoming real scared the fucks out of me.

Things I am straight up excited about that are cooking up for year thirty-seven: expanding our family, running more (jogging less), travel plans (more PNW!), gearing up to podcast (WHAT? I KNOW), and of course – all the wonderful and not so wonderful I’m not even planning for. Because life just happens.

I didn’t reflect on thirty-six here, because thirty-six was rough. I haven’t quite wrapped my brain around any of it (and I’ve really tried). Maybe I just won’t be able to. Maybe that will have to be okay.

Celebrate with me, no matter your age. Bake yourself a cake, freeze the leftovers, and run like your heart needs it (it does, that’s no joke). Because really, I wanna make it all about balance.

Balance, coffee, bourbon and leftover cake in your freezer for those days that you need to remember your birthday was glorious AND YOU ARE ALIVE, DAMMIT.


11 thoughts on “37

  1. I love this post so much!!! And our birthdays are so close – add it to the list!

    Wish your travels were bringing you back eastward … alas, will have to make do with lots of visits here and on IG and so forth.

    Happy 37 to you and I’m so happy we’ve come into one another’s lives. Yay internets!

  2. Beautifully put! Ya know, I was full of wangst over 40, but have embraced the three years that have followed since then. It’s only a number and it is up to you how you react to said number. (I may change my tone at 50, though. I reserve that right.) Celebrate it, live it up! You have a lot of spectacular going for you over there. <3

  3. I don’t know why these words make me cry (seriously, the several times I’ve read this post my damn eyes keep welling up) other than they express such beautiful sentiments. You’re absolutely right… celebrate love, celebrate life, celebrate future and celebrate the now because every moment we have is precious. You are so wise, lady, and I look forward to celebrating with you, this day and every chance we get. Huzzah!! xoxo

  4. First, happy belated birthday to you.
    Second, thanks for being so dang honest.
    We have yet to procrate at 29 and we’re um, how do you say? STRESSED.

    I love how you celebrated. You really seem to pause and reflect on each blessing in your life, and what better way to live?

    PODCAST? OH yes. You let me know when this business goes live. I can’t wait!

    • Thank you, lady! Don’t stress, never stress. Not over life or creating life. REALLY.

      I sure do try to pause and reflect. Sometimes too much even. ;)

      PODCAST! Stay tuned. I’m a ball of nervous nerves.

  5. Happy birthday sweetness!! I knew you were older than me, but I didn’t realize we were a decade apart! (Yes that’s a compliment haha) No wonder I find such a refreshing perspective in your writing. One of my mom’s best friends (my surrogate auntie) was about 15 years older than her, and I know what one of the things that made their relationship so strong and so unique was the fact that there was such an age difference between them. I love the idea of “expanding the family” by the way…. double the cuteness in my insta-feed!! yay! Seriously though, your home life makes me rather jealous… which you know is a big deal given my feelings in general about children. I would love to buy you a beer for your birthday, even though I’m pretty late! I’ll be around through the holidays – I know it’s madness now, but let me know what might work for you. It would be so fab to see you and talk about *everything* face to face!! xoxoxo

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