THE BIG 3-0

I was pumped when I heard that Jimmy Fallon was taking over as host of The Tonight Show. I have loved that guy since he was just a baby on SNL, and I couldn't wait to see what he would do in the prime late-night time slot. So Dave and I tuned in on the night Justin Timberlake stopped by, and right in the middle of The History of Rap Part 5, it occurred to me that the target audience for the show was not going to get that bit. I mean, The Tonight Show is for parents and my parents would NEVER relate to a Skee-Lo or Kanye West song. But wait. If the target audience of The Tonight Show is parents, and I now have a child, that makes me a parent and therefore the new target audience?! It literally occurred to me in that moment that I'm not a kid anymore.

The Tonight Show with Jay Leno made my parents laugh and I didn't get anything besides an occasional headline or Jack Hanna with the animals coming to visit when I was growing up, and now it's all jokes that Kinley won't get, but I find totally relevant--wearing out VHS tapes, the McDLT, doing the Roger Rabbit, etc. The guests aren't my idols, they are my peers. I am thirty and that is weird. 

My songs are on the oldies station. I heard TLC's "Waterfalls" on the Jon Tesh Radio Show when we were in Cincinnati and thought there had been a mistake until I realized that while the memory of dancing to that tape (yes, cassette tape,) at a slumber party in fourth grade is fresh in my mind, the song is actually 20 years old. Bananas.

My favorite shows are on Nick at Nite. Home Improvement, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Roseanne, Full House. We overheard our waitress at Bob Evans a couple of months ago telling her friend that she had found a great show on Netflix that was really old, but surprisingly great. I automatically thought she must be talking about The Golden Girls. Nope. She was talking about the great super-old sitcom FRIENDS. I choked on my chicken strip.

On every other birthday, when I've been asked if I feel any older or different, the answer has always been no. But this year, everything seems different. I have a mom haircut. I sometimes wear yoga pants and sneakers to Target. My once spotless Altima is now covered with a layer of crumbs, toys and extra diapers. I laugh at jokes on The Tonight Show. And I honestly couldn't be happier about any of it. 30 feels comfortable.

Maybe 30 isn't something to dread. Maybe it's the beginning of real life...worrying less about what people think of your outfit and hoping you don't look fat, and more about enjoying what you've been given and loving every minute. Maybe 30 is all about hakuna matata. And yoga pants and sneakers. And crumbs. Lots of crumbs.