June 9, 2010
I have spent the past month stewing. And not just any kind of stewing -- the kind of stewing where you load the ingredients into a crockpot and let it slow simmer on warm for an abnormally long time. That kind of stewing. I've stewed over how I should feel about the first number of my age being a 3. It's only one year older, but it's a whole other decade. Or, is it like the millennium controversy where it doesn't TRULY start until 31? Either way, I had no idea how to feel about the big 3-0. Should I run out and buy wrinkle cream? Lock myself in my room with a bottle of wine, a pint of ice cream, and a box of tissues? Rejoice that I'm finally a real-live-grown-up that can be taken seriously? Let's be honest, folks, there's a HUGE difference in how people react to you and your "intelligent commentary" when you're 29 versus when you're 30. I still don't know how to feel about it, so until I do, I'm going to be ok with it. I've done a lot in thirty years. My teen years should be applauded for surviving high school with a parent constantly within 100,000 square feet of my general direction. This came in handy when I needed money or needed to snag her already-signed book of passes to avoid an unexcused tardy. Yes. I was a rebel. I lived for show choir and chorus and music and dance, and I cry every time I watch Glee now because I remind myself just how much fun I had and how much I miss it. My twenties are to be celebrated. There's a big difference between applauded and celebrated. I achieved two degrees in the field that makes my world go 'round. I bought my first home. I sold my first home. I bought 2 dogs. (they now live with my parents. apparently, I'm forbidden from buying any more four-legged furry creatures while Mom and Dad are still breathing on this Earth) I learned what true love is. I got married to a wonderful guy, and I have a beautiful daughter who makes each day begin for me. So, we celebrated. We toasted my 30th with good friends and an amazing family. Nobody can argue that baby ain't his. It was certainly a sparkly day, with Eric's gift of diamond earrings, Diane, Amy, Bryan, Chris, Cameron, and Mary Ruth's gift of a Troll Beads bracelet, and the one that made me choke up -- this beautiful creation made from a Ruby (Anna's birthstone) from my Grandma Davis, diamonds from my Great-Uncle Sam, and set on my Mom's wedding band. A true family heirloom. And, just as any true princess should, Anna tried on her first tiara. It suits her.