Thoughts from a writing mom

My birthday is next week and something about turning 35 feels different enough to warrant a blog post, so here we are. The much younger me. I have to start with saying how excited I am.   I know each year is a gift and to have (nearly) 35 so far – wow! I feel incredibly grateful.   I don’t mind aging.   Really! (It turns out, however, that I don’t necessarily love all of the effects of aging, so for the time being I’ll continue covering my grays with highlights.) I’ve loved my 30’s so far.   I love them much more than my 20’s. Don’t get me wrong – my 20’s hold some of my greatest memories and I’m thankful for that decade too.     I served in the Navy, joined the Catholic Church, married my husband, and became a mother.   I also ran the first of what has now been five half-marathons and began writing the book that would make me a published author.   That decade was pretty sweet to me, come to think of it. But in my 20’s I wasn’t always so good to myself.   I let the