10 to 30

In ten minutes it will be July 15th. In ten minutes I will be thirty.

I've thought about this more than I would have expected. I'm not one to let something as silly as a number get in the way of the pleasure that comes with a day that is all about me (honestly, in my world, isn't every day about me?) ;)

I think I'm over-thinking "30" because everyone makes such a fracking big deal about it. What is really different about me or my life now that I'm a nice round number? How much of a leap will I take from 29 to 30? The other day I reflected on this with my sounding board and candy "dealer", Monty (not kidding about the dealer part...it's unhealthy...someone hear my cry for help please). Before I get into this, let me just add that everyone should have someone in their life named "Monty". It is so pleasing to say. If you don't know someone who happens to have a last name that lends itself to such a moniker, just pick a person you like and start calling them "Monty". I doubt they'll persist.

Anyways, I sat with Monty and worked through this idea of being a "person in their thirties". The majority of the time that I was a "person in their twenties" I was pretty terrified of life (or, I should have been). I was just finding some professional direction, I was blindly making my way through the gruesome world of the "single and ready to mingle" crowd, I was operating under the idea that it's "better to ask for forgiveness later than to seek permission now" without actually understanding what that meant.

In my twenties, weird things happened, and then some good things, and then a lot of dramatic things, and, ultimately, towards the end, the best things in my life. My marriage to Mike and my two cherubs, Hen and Kitty. In my twenties I experienced great happiness and triumph, as well as some great confusion and loss. I am not someone who likes to think about sad things. I don't dwell on pain and I will do anything to avoid discomfort. I'm a real big baby. With that said, I realize that I've learned more from those squishy, awkward, painful moments than I ever could have guessed. They've helped to shape me, and while it still hurts to think about them, I do feel oddly grateful for what they've brought me.

In my thirties, I have no doubt that there will still be plenty of discomfort. I know that I haven't figured things out, but I do have the confidence that comes with a few years of experience and a few stories to tell. Ten years ago I had a half-completed major in English, a super-cute new boyfriend (who would very shortly turn out to be majorly craptastic), an average relationship with my family...but I had reached my goal weight!!!

Now...I have a career that excites me, I have a husband that I am still majorly crushing on, two outstandingly cute, funny little kids and a relationship with my parents and siblings that is so important to me, I would do just about anything to protect it.

As for the goal weight...I have absolutely no idea. I threw out my scale years ago.

Hey, thirty-years-old, you're not lookin' so bad after all.

Hey...guess which one is me. Pretty sure it's obvi. Refused to take the glasses off for the entirety of the party. Celeb status at 3 years old. Baller.

mb

Something in the way she moves

Posting has been on hold this week. Not that there hasn't been enough to write about (there's been plenty), it's just that a mid-summer cold has had me out for the count. Honestly, I think my body is rejecting the idea of turning 30. Fever, sore throat, stuffy nose, achy body...yep, it's got to be a rare but serious Peter Pan/anti-aging allergy.

I'll tell you who is very interested in "growing up"...our little kitten! This series of photos was taken by Mike (on his cell phone) the course of a half an hour. She makes her way across the room, giggling and drooling all the while.

Just can't hold this kid down. She's on the move.