Today is the day that I turn 35 years old. If you round up, that's almost the same as saying I'm 40. It's a sobering thought knowing that I'm not, nor will I ever be, as young as I once was.  But that's okay. I can live with the pair of strands of grey hair that I see in the mirror every morning. And I'm okay with the fact that I don't have the most up-to-date or trendiest wardrobe. I will even admit I kind of miss my neon green New Kids on the Block t-shirt.

What I have difficulty with is the fading memories. I want to be able to remember all the little things right alongside the milestones of years past. I want to remember the good, the bad and even the ugly. Including my atrocious perm below, bangs and all.

At the end of the day, I may not be the prettiest, most fashionable or physically fit 35-year-old on the planet, but I can surely take pride in my accomplishments over the years, the friends I have made, and the life I have established for my children. I am an imperfect mother and wife, a horrible cook, an aspiring teacher. I make no apologies for who I am today or for any of my faults. The person that I am took 35 years to make and I wouldn't change a thing.

As a gift to myself to acknowledge all of my hard work, sacrifices and successes, I treated myself to my very first DSLR camera, a Canon Rebel T3i, so that I can preserve today's memories and maybe even get mom in the picture more. You're only 35 once.

A couple of weeks ago, Allison Tate published an article in the Huffington Post entitled, "The Mom Stays in the Picture." After having read it, I realized why the article kept showing up in my Twitter stream. It is a sobering reality that many moms feel the same as Allison who writes, "I avoid photographic evidence of my existence these days. To be honest, I avoid even mirrors. When I see myself in pictures, it makes me wince. I know I am far from alone; I know that many of my friends also avoid the camera." And while my friends may not exactly avoid the camera, many of them do feel reluctant to leave the comfort of being behind the camera in exchange for a position in front of it. The end result? A family scrapbook full of adorable snapshots of the kids but very few, if any, memories of mom for her children to look back upon.