Here I Am Again...Only This Time, I'm Turning 34

Wow.

What. A. Year.

Last year (for my 33rd birthday) I wrote this post, sort of a State of the Union Address for me and mine.  In short, when compared to my previous (32nd) birthday, I: weighed more, was in more debt, still hadn't been back on a horse, still wasn't drinking as much wine as I'd like to, still didn't have time to read books, and was still living in a house and location I wanted to leave behind.  So basically...nothing changed except I got a little fatter and we racked up some debt due to massive home repairs (not even fun stuff, I'm talking actual repairs - boring).

Well, one thing had changed...I was pregnant...but it was still early when I wrote that post, which is why I didn't share it.  At the time, my pregnancy only made me *that much more* aware that I needed to lose a few pounds, wanted to move and had an extra million dollars (not quite, but felt like it) in loan payments each month.

So where are we today?

Well.  I'm 34.  34!!  Maybe one day I will stop acting surprised when I am a year older on my birthday.  But not this year.

I just don't feel like I'm old enough to be 34.  I'm still a kid!  I like ska music and ride horses every day and  drink flat Boone's farm on the weekends and whine about how tough it is being enrolled in junior college.  That's who I am.  Right?

WRONG.  Tonight (I don't even want to write this), Charles called me a...cougar.  Yeah.  He said 34 is official cougar-status (I mean, aside from the fact that I look way younger than I am and I'm married and not on the prowl for younger men, and even if I was single I still wouldn't be on the prowl for younger men...I would totally be looking for old and rich - kidding/not kidding).

So, I'm not a cougar but I'm also not the young girl "struggling" to make it through my early 20's anymore and drinking Boone's Farm every weekend (flat because I don't like carbonated drinks) because we all know Brass Monkey makes me puke.

The years are just going by so damn fast!

With years like 2011, it's no wonder.  I still haven't had time to sit back and breathe.  Here's the short version of 2011:

Find out I'm pregnant (technically, that was 2010), put our house up for sale, work a lot, get more pregnant, Charles gets laid off for the second time in six months, get an offer on the house (from crazy people, but desperate times call for desperate measures so we take a leap of faith and sign the contract), Charles gets a new job, we find new house and make offer, I quit my job of 5+ years, our house falls out of escrow (lesson learned!), we get new offer from another set of buyers and house goes back into escrow, we pack and do more packing, Jack decides to make good on the "terrible twos" as everyone and their mother has promised us he would, I have a baby, we move to our new house with a 6-day-old, and from that point until now I have been learning to be a Stay at Home Mom (which, shockingly, involves a lot of...staying home...) while Charles has been busting his heiny at his new job so we can enjoy our new house and location and hopefully use this upcoming year to GET OUT OF DEBT.  Oh yeah!  And I still haven't ridden a horse and I still don't fit in any of my pre-second-pregnancy jeans.

So, it's been a busy year.

I can cut myself some slack in the weight department because, well, I just had a baby.  I am comfortable with the debt because we have a plan in place to crawl out of this hole, we have implemented it, and we really, really like it here (which makes it worthwhile).  Charles bought me some riding lessons for our anniversary.  So, I should be on a horse in the next few weeks.  Woo-hoo to that!  And there is a bottle of wine in the kitchen just begging me to drink it (which I will, as soon as I am not sick...damn you, sinuses).

I feel like 2011 has been the busiest year of our lives.  

I feel like 2012 is going to be amazing.  I really do.  

34, you say?  This cougar is down.  Bring it.