This is 39.

You know when you were a kid and you tried to stuff as many Hubba Bubba gum pieces in your mouth to see how much you could chew? It was a mouthful, right?

Check this people: Today, I am 39 years old. Big mouthful of too much only I can’t spit any of it out. Everyone says it but as you age, it’s really truly hard to believe your number actually is the number of years you are.

39 comes with a whole box full of reality goodies:

39 is chin hair. More than one.

And gray hairs now popping out of my head that I pluck and tell no one about including myself. (What gray hair, Whitney? You didn’t just do that?)

39 is getting interrupted 4 times while writing this post because it’s summer and my kids are home and they are bored. And want juice. Or breakfast. Or one was sitting on the other’s face and I had to get up and shout.

39 is my parents getting old and it scares me.

39 is not sleeping through the night even if my kids don’t wake me. Because I have to wake up to pee. Or hubby snores and I wake up for a second and go back to sleep. Or the cat has a 2 am puke fest.

39 is my knee cracking half-way through Step class because it’s been exercising for lots of years and is crying uncle for a moment.

39 is knowing people who have died. 39 is knowing people who have divorced. 39 is knowing sadness for people in my life who have pain and hardship and knowing things and having seen things that didn’t exist in my world at younger ages.

39 also comes with a whole box of beautiful reality goodies that I didn’t have at 19. Or 29.

Like this:

Delight. Frustration. Awe. Inspiration. Love. Daily.

39 is having a 9-year-old who makes me birthday cards that make my heart feel good and make me laugh at the same time:

And also having a husband who, after 12 years of marriage, I can still be silly with:

39 is this:

10 miles, baby! I didn’t think I could do that at 29.

39 is weighing (almost to the exact pound!) what I weighed at both 19 and 29. Only now at 39, I know I’m not fat. I’m fit (enough) and I’m healthy and I no longer have the insecurity in my body that I did 10 and 20 years ago. Do you guys know how refreshing and empowering that is?

39 is having amazing girlfriends who mean the world to me:

This:

39 is having an appreciation for the beauty in the world. This is a baby bunny and a groundhog I saw on my run today outside in the gorgeous summer air. I appreciate that I can go outside on a beautiful day and my legs can carry me for several miles. I feel lucky and blessed at 39.

39 is having wisdom.

I will leave you with my status update on Facebook this morning:

It’s tongue and cheek. Because I don’t feel 22. While part of me wants to be all carefree and Taylor Swift young (don’t we all?), I feel lucky to be 39, alive, healthy and blessed with a healthy and happy husband and children.