Many of you have asked what turning thirty felt like, so I paused my painting (yes, there’s finally paint on a formerly untouched bathroom wall—wahoo!) to share. My birthday on Monday was lovely. So far, thirty suits me just fine and I don’t feel a day over twenty-nine. My theory is that birthdays rarely feel dramatic: I wake up much the same as I did the morning before. Life milestones—graduating college, getting married, becoming a parent—tend to give a stronger sense of getting older. A birthday, on the other hand, is mostly a fun excuse to eat too much dessert, which is exactly what I did. Here’s how the day went.
I woke up to a kitchen transformed into a giant present.
John had strung ribbons everywhere, making the whole room look like the prettiest spider web imaginable.
I love that he isn’t afraid to go full-on ribbon mode for birthday madness. He also surprised me with my favorite childhood lunch: pastina. It’s the tiny pasta—my Italian mom always called it pastina—that you cook with butter, a splash of milk, and a pinch of salt. I ate it after school as a kid, and it’s such a comforting treat. John remembered and picked some up without me even asking.
Clara tasted pastina for the first time and absolutely loved it—my little foodie.
We worked a normal day but decided to unplug early—at 5:30—and head to Stonypoint, an outdoor shopping and dining area in Richmond. Since we often get too full for dessert after dinner, John insisted we have dessert first to make sure we’d have room. He told me to pick any restaurant I wanted, which turned into a charming mission of reading every dessert menu and choosing the most irresistible option.
We settled on a trio of desserts: strawberry cheesecake, a brownie, and a gooey cookie topped with caramel from Champs. At one point we both burst out laughing because the bowls looked like the singing chairs from a certain TV singing competition; I may have spun one around and belted out “this is the voice” while the waiter watched. Turns out I’m not any more mature or less embarrassing now that I’m thirty.
We popped into Anthropologie afterwards. I love wandering that store for display ideas—the woven burlap wall behind Clara in the picture below was brilliant—but honestly the highlight was watching my kiddo in the foreground. Clara sang “Happy Birthday” to me about seventeen times; it was so sweet that she even gave encore performances on the following days, which kept me grinning.
John gave me a card full of thoughtful notes and Clara’s cute scribbles. He also surprised me with a copy of The Happiness Project, which I’m already enjoying. The first chapter focuses on simplifying and paring down, and it made me itch to reorganize the house. So heads up: there may be some serious basket-and-organization energy around here soon, along with the landscaping, bathroom, and deck plans we’ve been plotting.
He also surprised me with a sweet ceramic elephant box (I’m guilty of sending him obvious hints when I spot a sale), plus a gift card for a massage at my favorite spa. He usually gives me a massage gift for Mother’s Day, and apparently my raving about those treatments may have inspired him to make it semi-annual—excellent news for someone with back knots from laying cork flooring.
After tucking Clara into bed, instead of diving into DIY or photo editing, John cooked my favorite dinner: Jamie Oliver’s chicken and leek stroganoff. It may sound odd, but it’s incredibly good. We dined on the patio by candlelight, listening to the wind rustle and keeping a baby monitor nearby. It was simple, cozy, and perfect.
During dinner we talked about how much we love our current house and compared it to our very first home—the place where we were married in the backyard and brought Clara home. The verdict: it’s a tie. We’ll always cherish our first house, but this one has grown into a warm, cozy home for us too. Talking about all the projects we want to tackle—how to show this house love—made us even more excited about it. We seem to express our affection by improving and caring for our spaces, and that’s part of why we love where we live.
Overall, my thirtieth birthday was wonderful. I’m grateful for a husband who makes me feel special, a daughter who sings and draws for me, a loyal pup, and all of you who sent kind birthday wishes. I know I get sentimental sometimes, but I really appreciate sharing our home, this milestone, and my DIY life with you.
For old times’ sake: John’s thirtieth celebration, Clara’s first birthday, my twenty-ninth birthday post, and Clara’s unique rendition of “Happy Birthday” were all memorable moments for us.