For a few years now, I’ve been eagerly denying the idea that I am going to get older. I know it will happen eventually, but in my head, I’m the same person who I was when I was 18 years old and going off to college. I try to imagine that nothing but my experiences have changed, but this week woke me up to a whole new world of reality, and I have to say, I think the aging process in sneaking up on me faster than I thought.

I know I’m still early on the journey, but the first sign of my trek up the hill came just a few days ago. New Year’s Eve was a big test on the age scale, and we failed. On Monday, my husband and I contemplated the many options of things that we could do for New Year’s Eve. There are always the obvious choices – parties, clubs or anything that involves a lot of champagne and a drunken New Year’s countdown.

We chose, instead, to stay at home and watch some movies. We could have stayed up to welcome in the new year, but after imbibing one glass of wine, we realized that the baby was sleeping, the house was empty and we would never have a better opportunity to catch up on our sleep, so by 10 p.m., we were both out cold. Of course, I suppose that the reason for that could be because of our almost two year old son, an individual with so much energy that I often feel tired just trying to keep up with him.