It’s my thirty first birthday today, a milestone which seems both significant and small at the same time. While it’s not a birthday with a nice round number that you would see on greeting cards at Hallmark, thirty one also seems better in some ways than thirty because now I’m officially in the Club – I’m a thirty something now which surely means… something.

One would think that now that I’m an age that Teenage Jen would have considered “a grown up” or even “old” that I would feel more self assured and confident – that I would know my place in this world and have convictions in my beliefs and, I don’t know, feel like a grown up. Does anyone ever feel like a grown up?

While I certainly don’t have it all figured out, I think I’ve come along way from the naive teenager Jen of yesteryear. I’ve let go of a lot of “I would nevers” and lofty exclamations about Who I Am because the more I live, the more I realize that giant claims rarely hold ground for long and that I never seem to have myself firmly pinned down. Because not only am I continuing to grow and change with each year, so is the world around me. There are no definite things in this world. This is what I know.

Thirty brought me my first dog, a weird and sudden love of cardigans and diet root beer, two children at school each day (well most days anyway), life as a karate mom, a new Disney princess (and Queen) to love right alongside my daughter, Sherlock on BBC, Alex & Sierra on the X Factor, new laminate flooring (and no holes in it) and a really nifty phone. Overall, not bad.

I look forward to seeing what thirty one has in store for me.