On Turning 30

Today I crossed in to another decade. I know many women might feel depressed about the big 3-0, but I feel pretty content.

A few years ago, one of my friends was getting ready to turn 30. I remember thinking it was unfortunate that she was going to hit a new decade. “I’m going to be 30,” sounded so old. She also shared that on her previous birthday she had made a list of a bunch of goals that she had for herself before she turned 30. I remember thinking how cool and inspirational that was, and how I hoped to do something similar.

Well, several years have passed, and I have no list of goals that I am reviewing. Last night, my husband asked me if I accomplished all that I had wanted to accomplish in my 20’s. I think I have, but I also feel like I achieved more than I wanted.

My main goals upon entering my 20’s were to graduate college and get married. That’s pretty much it. However, in my 20’s, not only did I graduate college, but I got my Master’s Degree by age 24. That definitely wasn’t in my plan, but it just got thrown at me, and I said, “well, why not?”

I didn’t have the goal to travel to XYZ places this decade, but I made it to Mexico, Central America, Africa, & Europe (& DISNEYLAND on two continents!).

I didn’t have a goal to get a stable job, so I’ve had the incredible experience of saying that I’ve taught everything from ESL, Biology, Chemistry, Math, Dance, & Spanish.

I knew that I wanted to have kids, but I don’t know if I made it an official goal. It was always just, “this is the best time to get pregnant, so let’s do it!” Now I will have 3 kids at the age of 30.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the past few years sitting on the couch, making hundreds of breakfasts, PBJ’s, changing thousands of poopy diapers, calming tantrums, reading books out loud, doing dishes & laundry. Were those on my goal list entering my 20’s? Yesterday I thought, “I am SO glad Emmanuel pooped 4 times today. If he hadn’t, I would have missed my 2,000th poopy diaper goal before turning 30.” True story about the number of poopy diapers yesterday, and a hyperbole for the poopy diaper goal.

Today I did a few loads of laundry and showered, but intentionally neglected the kitchen (it is my birthday after all). If you can’t find joy in these mundane things, what is life for?

I had a goal of becoming a doula starting last summer, but over 18 months ago, I was literally gifted with ownership of a school. Yes, it seems impressive to say that I am the director of a school, but, even though starting up an immersion kindergarten was in my nebulous future plans, I feel like I cheated somehow in this goal. I’m so glad I have had this opportunity to own a small business, but that definitely wasn’t on my radar when I entered my 20’s.

Other reasons I feel absolutely fabulous entering my 30’s are due to me being pregnant. A 30 year old woman might feel a dread upon recalling that she is not as fit and trim as when turning 20. But, once again, I am cheating here. First of all, I feel greatest about my body when I am pregnant. I feel more feminine and beautiful when pregnant than when not pregnant. And at 6.5 months pregnant, I am approaching that peak of pregnancy beauty. How could I not love that?

And other complaints about a 30 year old body?

“I’m a little chubbier than I used to be!” a fellow female might lament.

Well, I’m pregnant! I am celebrating the fact that I gained 14lbs since July.

“I’m not as energetic and fit as before,” says another.

Once again, I have the most beautiful excuse. I’m PREGNANT!

In conclusion, I am feeling thirty, and flirty, and fine! Many thanks to my pregnancy for letting me off the hook on some of the depressing issues about a new decade. However, I feel that I might need some extra moral support on my 31st birthday, so please celebrate me with gusto next year.