Last Sunday was my 30
th birthday. On Friday, Jason, Liam, and I hopped on a train and headed to Baltimore. Unbeknownst to me, our train ride was the kickoff to Nina-fest: Three days of non-stop birthday surprises and fun. At the train station Angela picked me up and we headed to meet Hannah for four hours of spa pampering. After the spa, Hannah, Angela, and I headed back to my parents
house where
- much to my surprise – 30 of our family members and closest friends yelled “surprise!!” at me as I walked through the front door. As the party was coming to a close, and I was frantically trying to brush Liam’s teeth in hope of getting him in bed before 11pm, Jason announced to me that we were flying to Denver in the morning! I had been wanting to see Brittany pregnant, and we had already canceled two trips to Denver because of time and money shortages, so it was the perfect surprise. The next morning, Jason, Liam, and I were sitting on a plane jetting towards the Rockies. Jonas and Brittany picked us up at the airport and drove us back to their house. As Jonas opened the back door to show me the yard he and Brittany had been working so hard on, Pia, Raymond, Vera, Chas, Jill, Josh, Whitney, and Ashton all greeted me with birthday hats and noise makers. For the third time in less than 24 hours, I almost had a heart attack from surprise (and joy). The rest of the weekend was spent snuggled up with my besties and my siblings enjoying the Denver weather, eating, drinking, and being merry. Jason: pretty amazing. Right?
Turning 30 is certainly a milestone. Though, I haven’t quite yet figured out what the significance of the milestone is for me. My dad says it’s the beginning of real adulthood. Though, for me, I think real adulthood started years ago when I embarked on a PhD and a marriage. And then having Liam only added to the adult-ness. Maybe 30 marks the beginning of physical aging. Wrinkles, sun damage, hangovers, and a slowing metabolism have all become noticeable to me only in the past year. Although, if I dig deep, I really don’t give a shit about any of those things. And I’m not at a place where any of my body has really started failing me. Really, I think this year marks a different kind of change for me. I feel more settled, more at ease, less restless, and more confident than I’ve ever felt before. I’m happy about the things I’ve accomplished in the past 10 years. I landed a pretty sweet husband, I have a masters degree and am in the final stages of a doctorate, I’ve traveled some, I’ve maintained my closest friendships, I’ve created a new little life from scratch and have gotten him to the age of two without accidentally starving or losing him, I practice yoga, and take lots of pictures. I’m working on my goals for the next 10 years. But some things are already taking shape, and it’s looking good. So, I’ve decided to welcome my 30’s with open arms…. When I get to 40, I might be a little less optimistic.
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