Thirty, Flirty and Thriving

I’m thirty and surprisingly calm about it. I remember calling myself 22 with four years experience then jumping to 26 because I became a momma, but I wasn’t ever confident about much of anything in my twenties. I think in my mind there is pressure to be cool in your twenties, and I am not cool. Never have been. Awkward, sure. Misunderstood, maybe. Cool, not so much. But now I have an excuse. I’m 30. And I’m cool with it.

When I was younger someone told me that your body starts to fall apart around 30. During the past year, this memory made me laugh. Here I was, in spitting distance to my 30th, and I was feeling great. Even after two babies and all the joyous body changes that come with that, I was feeling good. Apparently my body was giving me a stay of execution. Well, then I learned that I was allergic to toilet paper. TOILET PAPER! Not kidding. Not fun. Not kidding. So now, in addition to carrying diapers, wipes, extra clothing, baby food, snacks . . . for the kids, I also have to carry my own hypoallergenic, ridiculously lame toilet paper. Awesome. Thanks body.

Then there’s the volleyball beer league that I joined. (We play then go out for a beer afterward, though I don’t drink so maybe I should call it something else. Now taking suggestions.) I played Division I volleyball in college (not bragging by any means, just stating the facts). And during this time I was forced to jump on boxes, over hurdles, up the stadium stairs, up the arena stairs two at a time . . . but my downfall was an innocent hit at beer league that wrecked my knee. Something I could do in my sleep. I blame 30.

Other than the occasional body glitches, I’m pretty okay with 30. My husband let me sleep in so I awoke rested something that has rarely happened in the last decade and a half (again, not kidding). When I got out of bed I was greeted by the most adorable two and a half year old that God has ever created. He said “Appy Birfday momma” and gave me a big hug. Next, the most beautiful little 8 month old came crawling, commando style, laughing hysterically, just to see her momma. I am blessed and loved. I was given flowers, hugs and a home cooked meal from my husband. I am blessed and loved (and after 12 years as a couple, the fact he still likes me is saying something). It was a great day.

So, I may not be cool. I may be a little squishy around the edges, and I may be a little sappier than normal but that’s okay by me. I’m thirty and never been better.