Spent a few minutes hopping along the set of ‘Next Blog’ links at the top of Laura’s eBlogger blog. Not sure what the algorithm for blog presentation is, but the first few blogs were all blogs with one entry on them, which had all been posted today. (Technically, yesterday, but I haven’t gone to sleep yet, so, today, darn it.) That was my first surprise. Second surprise was to run across blogs in different languages. Why that surprised me, I assume, is that my bias is to think that things on the ‘Net happen in English. If I examined the pieces of data, I know that, even if it once was the case, there’s no reason for it to continue to be the case. Much of the world has Internet access and presumably believes it has something to say. But the final surprise point was this blog: I think it’s written in Arabic, I have little insight as to anything about the author other than what part of the world he’s from (Iran) and whatever else I can attempt to deduce from his ‘About Me’ picture, but the sole other picture on the page just makes me stop. That little baby, smaller than the hand laying beside it, wrapped in tubes and wires… no language translation necessary to have that post speak to me.

Odds are, friend, that we don’t worship the same God. But I offer up a prayer for this little baby, regardless, and pray that soon the wires melt away and this baby grows well beyond the size of that hand.

I turned 30 yesterday, which for me turned out to not be such a big deal. We’re using the occasion to throw a big party, since hubby turns 30 in a week and a half, and I’m looking at 30 as something of a marking point. How have I done so far with my goals? Are the goals I had still the goals that are important to me? The story I’ve heard echoed over and over again is that folks get caught in up the everyday, in the things that have to be done today or by this weekend, or their big plan for next month, letting their bigger goals in life gather dust. I don’t want to fit that story. I want to both achieve my goals in life, and keep making new ones so that there’s continually a challenge, no matter what my age.

I talked with my mom today. She asked me if I needed a walker yet. I boastfully replied that I had run 9 miles this morning- no walker necessary here! She then reminded me that when she had turned 31, I had seen fit in my 11 year old sense of humor, to give her a cane that had a rearview mirror and a horn attached to it. When you’re 11, your parents don’t seem quite ancient, but definitely count as old. Not old like grandparent old, but stuck in the same state they’ve always been in and will always be. That cane had been my way of poking fun. And now, I’m merely one year away from the same age as my mom had been. Luckily, my kids are a lot younger. I’ll have to be 40 (ooh, ancient!) before Cora will be in that same pre-teen state to poke fun at her “old” mom. And I’m hoping to be able to proudly say, ‘I don’t need that thing, I just ran 9 miles today.’