Our Age......

She's our age.
"How old is that," I inquire.
"26/27."
I smile. "I'm 33."
And yet again the same response, "You're 33! How hold is your husband?"
"37."

It's not that I have some amazing beauty secret that keeps my husband and I looking youthful and fresh, it's simple that we're immature. Not immature in a bad way, though I did have to walk out of the room when me 1 1/2 year old took off his friends Barbie's shirt and said "boobies" (I swear I never taught him "boobies" and to this day we're still trying to uncover the mystery "boobie" introducer, but immature in a "we still think we're 26/27" way.

Though we'd like a house we live in an apartment in a ridiculously overpriced area (obviously we're not from Long Island)with no plans or even thoughts about owning a home. Though we work hard we've yet to huncher down and make our careers "happen." We play with our children probably more than we should, and we like it. Our bills and savings aren't in the best order, though we do have a recession to put some of that blame on, we know nothing about that average savings/cds that most 30 year olds would. And the list goes on. It's not that we don't know our age or our responsibilities, I think it's just that we keep waiting on everything. You know, next month, next year, next week, etc.

But suddenly my priorities have started changing. The Christmas tree that I would have fought with my husband to keep up after the New Year, has been calling to me. It wants to be thrown out. And truthfully, I can't wait to do it. I'm itching to take off it's bulbs, unwind our lights and drag the things to the curb. I want space, cleanliness. Strange. I've found myself cleaning the kitchen and the floors before I go to bed. "I want to wake up to a clean house," is what my grandmother says. Could I be following the same path? But the thing that caught me off guard, the thing that I find myself thinking about this morning in the mist of Imagination Movers, is my strangest behavior off all. I'm watching Jeopardy at 7, followed by Wheel of Fortune. Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. Seinfeld and The Office have suddenly lost their appeal for "smart" television shows? Huh? But, just when your saying "that isn't so bad" I'm going to throw in more. I watch these shows while reading the paper! The paper! Mainly The New York Times! And at 8 o'clock I make myself a hot cup of tea, crawl under my cozy sheets and curls up with my book for an hour or so.

So, has it happened? Am I starting to get old? To 'act my age?' I've always seen 33 year olds on TV and thought, "They look so mature, so put together." Am I becoming one of them? Am I finally growing up? Will I start thinking about CD's, and know what they mean and what to do with them, saving for my children's college education and go after my "career" with gusto? Hum, 2010 could turn out to be an interesting age of the adventures or age of the maturity of a 33 year old mommy.