This morning my daughter, River, asked if she could have one of my rings when she gets bigger. She declared that the ring was intended for young people, so I  probably shouldn’t wear it anymore. I replied that I don’t feel old, but she quickly assured me that I definitely am. Not as old as a grandma, mind you, but still old enough. Which is exactly the kind of conversation you hope to have on the morning of your 32nd birthday.

32. It sounds like a very grown up age. And I suppose that I am a grown up. I’ve been married for nine years, I have two children, two cats, and a house. Grown up, indeed.

I used to dread getting old – not just in my twenties when the thought of thirty made my stomach turn, but even in my tween years (though they weren’t called that then). I didn’t even want to turn ten – you could say that I’ve always had a healthy does of Peter Pan syndrome. But I have to tell you, my thirties have been awesome so far. Nothing turned out the way I planned, and that’s okay.

When I was younger, I thought I might get married around now and have kids at 35. I figured that I would have spent my twenties traveling the world and building a career, and it would be time for me and my exotic husband to settle down and focus on family and home. Probably in Montreal. Or possibly Halifax.

As it turned out, I did a brief stint of travelling when I was nineteen and then settled down with a guy who has rarely even left the province. I started working and built up a nice portfolio of web design, but quickly abandonned it after I had my first daughter. I’ve traded a climb up the corporate ladder for a lovely little babywearing store that keeps me busy but not overwhelmed. I bought a house in my home town, and I have never even visited Montreal. Yet.

To my surprise, I find its the simple things make me the most happy. I like playing with my girls, baking muffins, starting (and possibly even finishing) a knitting project, drinks with friends, and writing in my blog. I like starting the day with a cup of tea. I like dancing around the kitchen with my daughter. I like walking to the bakery for fresh bread. For the first time ever, I even like my hair. I am content.

Life doesn’t turn out the way you expect it to – I didn’t turn out the way that I thought I would. Regardless, it’s all going much, much better than planned.