I'll be 34 years old tomorrow. Does that plant me firmly in my mid thirties then?
Is that why my nearly-four-year-old son throws his head back in disbelief when I casually call myself a girl and then practically snorts at me "No Mummy, you're a lady".
Is that why I had to tick a different box on a consumer survey the other day and reluctantly admit I am no longer in the 'Young Person' age bracket?
And is that why I'm here, desperately hugging a mug of hot chocolate with five (yes, five) floating marshmallows and musing over all the things I thought I'd have done by now?
I think we all know the answers to these questions. But how cruel that I can no longer make smudged mascara look cool. How tragic that I am unable to wear ripped jeans without the health visitor raising an eyebrow. And it's not fair that I can't look cool doing Zumba. Who invented this whole ageing business anyway?
But having said all that I'm really quite enjoying getting on a bit. For starters, and let's put the baby-birth hair loss and wobbly belly to one side for a minute, the last four years have given me two fantastic healthy children. They are the result of a heart-stopping romance leading to a happy marriage with my own dark, brooding Mediterranean man. I've had the courage to ditch a career I didn't want any more to boldly be the Mum I've always wanted to be. I've lived in three different countries and therefore met three sets of fabulously gorgeous people. And now, in a bid to tip the balance a little bit more in my favour, I'm starting my own business.
It's all new and exciting right now and whilst it's not exactly top secret, it's not something I'm going to shout about until I'm good to go. So until then you'll just have to be satisfied to know that it's cool and it involves rules of some kind and the antics will be posted right here.
Oh, and I found the inspiration for it during my ever-so-wonderful early thirties. Let's hope the mid-thirties have something to offer too (other than floating marshmallows).