Last blog post before I turn 25!

On this day a quarter of a century ago I was born. I bet my poor mum is feeling very old right now! Even I’m feeling old, and I’m not the mother of a 25 year old (almost 25 year old anyway… I was born at 8:02pm so officially I’m still 24 til then).

Today started off badly but has gradually got better.
It started when Jan and I overslept this morning. At 6:10 am the alarm beeped and I turned over, murmering something about 5 more minutes. Jan picked up the loudly squawking clock and hit the snooze button. Or at least I assumed he did. Some time later I woke up thinking “it must have been 5 minutes by now, what’s going on?” It had indeed been more than 5 minutes… a lot more in fact. It was 5 past 7! So no leisurely birthday breakfast for me. I just had time to have a quick shower, get dressed, brush my teeth and make a sandwich to eat on the way to work. Somehow I managed to arrive at Europaplatz with enough time to buy some cake before my tram came. In Germany when it’s your birthday you provide the cake for your colleagues. Usually I would bake one, but we went to the cinema last night so I didn’t have time. So I bought cake then crossed the road to wait for my tram. The S1, which comes 1 minute before mine, came and went. No sign of the S11. The 6 came and went. Still no S11. So I waited and waited and, 10 minutes later, got on the next S1 (the first S1 ends 3 stops before mine). The S11 never did show up. So great start to the day – first I oversleep then my tram doesn’t show up!

Things started to get better after that though. The boss wasn’t bothered about me being 10 minutes late. He said “stuff like that can happen when you’re relying on trams” then later told me that technically I can turn up anywhere between 8:30 and 9am, they just prefer it to be earlier so they can close early. I then showed him my cake and said I had bought a little something because it’s my birthday. I expected him to know already. Turns out he didn’t, despite the fact that I gave him something to photocopy the other day with my date of birth on it. I could have just not mentioned anything and kept the cake! Although I’m actually pleased I did let him know… it meant I got sent home at 4:30pm so I could enjoy my birthday afternoon. Yay for nice bosses!

And now I’m off to enjoy my last hour and a bit as a 24 year old.


Changing plans

It’s nearly my birthday. I’m going to be 25. That’s a quarter of a century!! How did that happen?

For years I thought 25 would be the perfect age to have a baby. Old enough to have finished uni and figured out what to do with my life, but still young enough to have more kids before I got old. Of course, back then I also thought I’d be married before I reached the grand old age of 25. I know, how naive right?

By the time my mum was 25 she already had 2 kids. She got pregnant with me at 19 (not planned) and I was born 18 days after her 20th birthday.
Growing up I loved having young parents. They were much less strict than my friends parents, some of whom were already in their late 30s and early 40s before they had kids. When I was a teenager all my friends wanted to have my dad. I was always the one that was alowed to host parties and whose dad never minded having a horde of 14 year olds in the loft playing computer games. Later I could go out drinking with my parents and have a good time. I still do go out drinking with my parents whenever I’m back in England. It’s brilliant!

So I wanted to be a young mum too. I wanted to be able to connect with my kids, be young enough to actually remember what it was like being a child, not be some old fuddy duddy mother who was old enough to be a Grandma. I also wanted (and still want) my kids to meet their grandparents.
And now I’m almost 25. I’m not married (or even close to being married) and I’m definitely not ready to look after a baby. My new perfect age to have my first child is 28. That way if I leave 2 years between them I still have time to have the second before I’m over 30. And by the time I’m 28 I’m pretty sure I will be ready to look after a baby. So 28 it is. The only problem is that’s in 3 years time. And I want to be married before my first child is born. Oh, and before that I want to be engaged for a while. Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Look out for another similar blog in 3 years time… “I used to think 28 was the perfect age to have my first child, But now I’m actually going to be 28…”

This much is certain. If I don’t have a child by the time I’m 30 I’m not having any. I refuse to be an old mama!

The year I was born…

On the way home today I went to Thalia, a book shop that’s practically opposite where I work. They’re selling some of their books of for 2.95 each (that’s only about 2 English pounds!) so I thought I’d take the opportunity to grab some reading material for the journey to Hamburg tomorrow. Of course, all the cheap books are in German (the English books live downstairs and are not on sale) but I did choose to move to Germany so I really should start reading the occasional book in the native language. As it happens, both of the books I got were tranlated from the English so I shall give you the original titles:
Shooting Butterflies by Marika Cobbold (definitely women’s fiction but probably not quite chick lit) and Bad Prince Charlie by John Moore (fantasy that claims to be perfect for “all Terry Pratchett fans” – the cover even has Pratchett-esque (or rather Josh Kirby-esque) illustrations all over it).

On the way out of the shop I spotted the Pratchett book “Making Money” on the best seller shelves. A little gold sticker caught my eye. On closer inspection it turned out the sticker had the words “25 years of Discworld” on it. “Ooooh” I thought “I didn’t know Discworld was the same age as me!” I suppose it’s probably not really – I bet he started writing it long before 1983. But it was published in the year I was born. Suddenly I feel a lot better about my impending quarter of a century birthday. After all, not everybody can say they were born the same year The Colour of Magic came out…