The late (20s), great me ...

If 30 is the new 20, I guess that makes me the new 17.

Today, I am officially in my late 20s.

Considering I had a minor panic attack over turning 25, I always figured that the word "late" would not go over too well. And yet, as the clock struck midnight (even though I wasn't born until 3:31 a.m., as decided at age 13 when I realized I didn't have a time of birth), thus ending my mid-20s, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and went back to watching "America's Next Top Model" on the DVR while Collin slept in his swing. All in all, a big shrug.

Being a peace with myself definitely helps.

Earlier tonight, I read my post from a year ago, when I talked about turning 26, and while I didn't come right out and say it, my one and only goal for the year was to have a baby. (OK, I did say something about working out, but since moving the treadmill from one bedroom to another doesn't technically count as using it, I am going to pretend I never made that goal.) Little did I know that I would spend the majority of the year being pregnant. I got pregnant about three weeks after I turned 26, and gave birth a little less than three months before turning 27.

When I turned 25, I had just lost out on being a mother.

When I turned 26, I was starting to wonder if I'd ever be a mother.

As I turn 27, I am a mother.

And even after 90 days, sometimes it's still a total aberration to look at Collin and realize that he is MY child. He is a dream come true, the realization of every wish on every birthday candle, on every shooting star, on every coin tossed a fountain. He is the greatest birthday gift of all. (That being said, I wouldn't exactly complain about a Gene Juarez massage or a trifle bowl.)

I achieved my goal for age 26 -- and that brings me back to why 27 must be the new 17.

In a way, I feel 17 again, back when I was starting my senior year of high school, deciding where I would be going to college and preparing to embark upon a new journey. These days, I am doing the same, as I figure out what I am going to do professionally and look for ways to resurrect my journalism career. I'm not ready to let go just yet, even if I'm not working right now.

So, for age 27, my goal is to figure out and set out on a new path, whether it be in newspapers, or something else. I also will try to update my blog more often (blame it on Collin, who will be the star of Sunday's entry on his 3-month birthday) and work on making some new friends -- it sure would be nice to meet some other moms.

And oh yeah, there's that whole treadmill thing.