A woman's d-day...errr... b-day

I find it fitting that on my 30th birthday I begin the journey of blogging.  

Somehow I thought I would have it all figured out by now.  After watching movies like Thirteen going on thirty, Sex in the city, and even Friends episodes, I viewed 30 year olds as the epitome of perfection and maturity.  I believed I would have an amazing, high profile, high salary job; a fantastic husband; 2.1 kids; a dog; and a great house.  Well, I do have a great husband and nice house. I have 3 kids, and another coming in October.  I'm now allergic to dogs, have a very small salary as I am only able to work part-time while homeschooling and raising my children.
After 2 years of being the full-time mom, I still find it hard to accept that this is really my job.  No vacation or sick days, no paid holidays, no reviews (other than the temper tantrums and hugs), no staff to whom to delegate those inane jobs, no pay.  Funny, I've never worked harder in my life, but receive no tangible benefit.  Then again, the love from my family is pretty amazing, as is seeing those firsts that happen throughout childhood and having the ability to shape and mold my children into the people I hope they will be in the future.
That said, I'm thirty today.  Though I am certainly no wiser than I was in my twenties (and at times my teens), I feel as though I have crossed some sort of threshold.  The anticipation of turning thirty has been building for some time.  I have watched friends agonize over this momentous occasion.  They searched for the perfect little red dress, carefully planned evenings out, certain to hit the right bars with the right people.  I have listen to them sob about losing their youth and shriek when discovering their first wrinkle or gray hair.  They purchased the anti-aging lotions and creams - the many elixirs guaranteed to preserve our youth.  And yet, after all of this ado, they seemed to be the same people after the dreaded b-day as they were before.
Even after watching this happen countless times (especially since I am one of the youngest in my group of friends), I found myself preparing for this day.  No, I did no go out to purchase the creams and gizmos (though I do have an anti-aging cream from L'oreal that I love, but got for free from a Walgreen's rebate).  Instead, I cleaned and ran errands yesterday, baked blueberry muffins and cappuccino biscotti and set myself up for a calm, relaxing morning.  The breakfast was amazing, I even added a fruit plate with grapes, orange slices, apple slices and strawberries.  My children, however, did not comply to this peaceful, idyllic environment I had hoped to conjure.  There was even more fighting and screaming than normal - time outs before breakfast, spilled hot cocoa, and sticky fingers.  It seems that I am silently crossing this barrier to my thirties.  My children, though they acknowledged that today was my birthday, seem otherwise unaware.  I am still the same mother in all of our madness.