Watch Me Turn 30, by Holly C.
I'm a 29-year-old New Yorker who inherited this site from my pal, Holly P., to document the final year of my twenties. Right up until I turn the big 3-0 next January, I'll use this blog to indulge my inner-narcissist by voicing the good (I can date men anywhere from ages 21 to 50 without it being scandalous) the bad (I keep getting ma'amed) and the ugly (is it possible to get cellulite on your stomach?!). Here's to waving goodbye to my youth, accepting adulthood and remembering that every ending is really just a new beginning.
the photo for August 13, 2007
DAY 196  |  August 13, 2007
Working on the book proposal morning, noon and night means I don’t get to see a whole lot of my family while I’m home. But when Dan was having a “bad day” at daycare, I agreed to meet my Dad to pick him up early. He was sitting at a lunch table alone and looking ticked off. When he saw me walk in, he broke into a huge grin and announced to his classmates, “This is my sister Holly!” Then he grabbed my hand—along with his lunch box and matching backpack—and we headed out for an ice cream cone.

Kids are amazing little people. There’s just something so fragile and real about them. It makes me want to just throw my arms around Dan and shelter him. One of the scariest things in the world must be having a kid and knowing you can’t protect him from everything.

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