30 (the party)

Husband's best man and one of our closest friends has a birthday 2 days before mine. This was the scene of our joint 30th birthday party last weekend where 15 of our family and closest joint friends headed for a weekend of partying.

It was an amazing weekend. Two wonderful evening meals cooked by my husband and a team of sous-chefs, eaten with all 15 (18 with extra visitors one night) crammed round the dining table. One quieter meal on the Sunday night in the pub down the road over card games and dating apps on someone's phone. Two nights of partying until 5am. (Hence the renting of a self contained house in the middle of nowhere where as much noise can be made as needed and they welcome stag parties). A crisp but sunny walk across the surrounding fields. A laughter filled game of basketball to drive off the hangovers and an afternoon spent pottering in bath (most people drinking, me purchasing a black jumpsuit to wear for the evening party having decided that all maternity wear was too frumpy). Champagne.

An amazing weekend, which was over too quickly. All too soon, everyone else departed for London and I drove back to Somerset, collecting Delilah, us both sobbing all the way home from the cattery. I once thought the flatness after a weekend of partying was a hangover. I think it's more than that. That and pregnancy hormones.

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And, if anyone is looking for a property that sleeps up to 16 for a hen party (or any other kind of party), I can highly recommend this place. Lots of bedrooms, lots of space, 2 lounges, plenty of bathrooms and hot water, plenty of outside space, decent well equipped kitchen - 2 dishwashers! - and separate dining room with a huge table. Just outside Bath so easy to get in for shopping and the spa, just off a main road so easy access but you can't hear it from inside and parking for about 10 cars. Decent manager who makes dealing with him easy and a pleasure. Email me if you want the details.

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House photo taken by my father (we invited our parents to join us for lunch on the Sunday).

30

As birthdays inevitably do, 30 came and went before I'd really had a chance to be present.  A day that started with presents over breakfast in bed, which continued by us hearing Pip's heartbeat at our 25 week antenatal appointment, included cupcakes made by my husband (which I am still getting compliments about at work), home made crispy duck pancakes for supper and then lunch out at a nice pub on Saturday.

My sister gave me a card which reads "29 forever". A fantastic card and one which I plan to frame, but, somehow, 30 actually feels right. I've dreaded it for so many months; hated the thought of getting old, leaving my youth behind. But actually, I'm pretty excited about the year ahead. A baby! Living with my husband again after 2 years! A new decade. New challenges.

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Me, Pip and Delilah. By Husband.

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As my twenties draw to a close, I feel surprisingly much better about it than I ever thought I might. I have gradually realised that anticipation is far worse than the actual event and, given that there is fuck all I can do about it, accept that it is inevitable and actually enjoy it.

As the clock turned midnight and 2012 arrived, I stood there with my husband, completely sober, for what must have been the first time since I turned 16, and realised that the year had come that I had dreamed about for years previous. You don't dream about turning 28, but, as a little girl, I often wondered what 30 might be like. And, I always thought and hoped I might have a baby at 30. And now here I am, on the eve of turning 30, 25 weeks pregnant. 

Later on that evening, husband and I stood together in the quiet peace and quiet of north London, in the middle of the road, watching the fireworks go off across the whole of the city. They were at once right in front of us and yet, tiny in the distance. Which is exactly what life feels like at the moment.

To celebrate 30, we are heading to Bath next weekend with our family and some of our closest friends, for a joint celebration with husband's best man, who was 30 yesterday. We have, for the past 8 years, had joint parties. In expensive cocktail bars in west London, overpriced nightclubs in Notting Hill (25), dinners, house parties and with various themes, mostly fuelled by large amounts of alcohol. Of all the photos, these were the only ones I could find of me on my own, safe for sharing.

Turning 28 in Stockholm/ 26 in London

Weekend

To conclude the round of anniversaries, it was husband's birthday. We held a little soiree at our house in his honour, much, I should think, to the disgust of our neighbours. Try as we might, 13 people in one house plus a cat equals possibly more noise than we usually make. To offset it a little, we headed for the beach/park as often as possible: to play football, to sunbathe and, on the Saturday evening, to sit around a driftwood fire drinking rum.

(as an aside - when sleeping in this warm weather, I think a soft vintage sheet and vintage blanket is possibly the nicest feeling, especially when your blanket smells a little like childhood camping holidays).