Thoughts on turning 30, and death

I turned 30 last week and I did it gracefully. Some people say 30 was a rough birthday because they felt old for the first time. Not me. I've been feeling old for about 15 years now. Not physically, I've just always felt like my soul was older than my body, so I'm glad to finally be catching up. Not too fond about the added wrinkles I'm seeing around my eyes, but you win some you lose some. For my landmark birthday my kids told me they hated me a record number of times. And while my age isn't getting me feeling any closer to death, Alaina and Jesse definitely are.  If you follow me on Instagram you may have seen this morbid gem Alaina gave me for Valentine's Day:

For those not fluent in Kindergartenerese, it says "When you die I will put up a sign in your cemetery." Funny, haha, I laughed because she's 6 and it was kinda cute. But the night before my birthday Jesse told me (with a total straight face) the following bedtime story, and now I'm never turning my back on either one of them:

"Once upon a time there was a girl named Lindsey, and she was angry because her kids were being naughty. So she went to the store to buy a cage, and when she got home she put her kids in the cage. But then they escaped, and Lindsey died. The End.

I laughed after this story too, but mostly to keep from crying. You see, Jesse really does want me dead. He told me so on Saturday, when he said "I can't wait for you to die so I can play as many video games as I want." With all this death talk I've starting calling them Wednesday and Pugsley. That usually makes everybody laugh, and then somebody tells me that I'm the best mom in the whole world. So like I said, you lose some, you win some.