Turning Thirty: Becoming the Real Me

I'm turning 30 this weekend. I know, right? My mom is having a private meltdown somewhere because if I'm 30, that means she is...
Thirty is a milestone year, and I think it deserves a bit of attention on this here bloggie. I have a great deal in my life to be thankful for and so much more to look forward to. Pretty much, I love being 30 already. Allow me this soliloquy...

I entered this world at a respectable 8 lbs 12 oz (thanks mom!). Shortly thereafter I intuitively learned to walk and feed myself and manipulate cookies out of older siblings. I was eventually brave enough to peel away from my mother's knee and begin kindergarten. I navigated the playground semi-successfully; got knocked down, got back up again, peed my pants during Heads-up 7-up, hated dodge ball, but secretly loved rainy days when we had to stay inside from recess and read. These are building blocks.
One endless summer I pretend-married my childhood best friend in a tree-house with a cracker jacks prize ring. I buried top secret treasures in my mother's garden intended to be found by future archeologists. I fought and played and fought with my brother. I ate endless quantities of my grandmother's tapioca pudding without guilt. I played outside everyday. Mostly barefoot. These are memories.
Somehow, some way, I survived Jr. High School. Although I did not emerge without scars. My eldest brother tolerated me enough to take me with him to Southeast Asia. It was terrifying, but that experience saved me. By my later teenage years I had started to turn into a somewhat respectable human being. Responsible. Studious (albeit not smart, per se). I gained a testimony of my Savior. I kissed a boy. I pierced my ears. I made real friends all before jumping out of the house and into University where being responsible, studious and popular only made you less than average. These are realities.
I had roommates way out of my league, a lucky good job, and drove an unfortunate old baby blue Mazda ironically named the bullet. I learned to cook on a cattle ranch. I traveled to Europe. Along the way I wrote a missionary and eventually he came home. For reasons I could not understand he was in love with me too and for once in my life I followed my heart instead of my head and said, yes. These are tender mercies. 
We were poor, but it didn't matter. Still doesn't. I finished my studies and went right to work. My first job was a complete set back, but things eventually got better and doors opened that I didn't know existed. We moved away, but not that far. He went school. Plus more school. And now works for his dad :). We fought hard to save those things in marriage worth saving, and got rid of a few others that needed letting go. Along the way a few miracles happened and soon I will become a mom to a little girl who has stolen my heart completely. This is my future.       

I'm entering a whole new decade of my life, the one that I envision will be the most difficult and yet the most rewarding. I'm 30 after all, and I fully intend to act like it. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to age gracefully and I'm fighting back the pressure to look and feel the same as I did a decade ago. Truthfully, I'm not all that sad to see my 20's go. Sure, we had good times, but I'm more than ready to move on. I've given up many things that used to pressure me, including the need to be a super cute super young superhero mom. Rather, I've embraced the notion of simply being a mom to young kids. It's a small change, but has made a big difference. So you see, the older I become, the more I realize I am becoming the real me.

 

I am: trying new things, like tennis

For the record, I am not a highly coordinated or sporty individual. I've proven this to myself time and time again. Flash back to Jr. High during a Jr. Jazz (city basketball league) game where I caught a rebound much to the shock of myself and team mates and in a total anxious panic I threw the ball back up in the air and SCORED A BASKET FOR THE OTHER TEAM. I kid you not. The shame of that moment has been with me for an eternity until recently when I realized that hey! I made a basket! In a basketball game! With people watching! There's a really good possibility that was the only basket I made the entire season and I will cherish those two points forever and ever amen.
Fast forward 15 years and the competitive drive is still very much lacking (except for annual Speed Championships with the family: watch out). And the anxiety of being in front of people is still very much present. I am no stinky cheese because it is clear that coordination does not get better with age. However, the only sports I've ever, and I mean EVER squeaked out a win against BD are racquetball and tennis. So obviously this is something I feel very obligated to pursue so that he is never allowed a leg up. Our marriage depends on it.

{Bethany, Dani, Nerd, Jane, DeeDee, and Kim @ Coach Mike's} Photo courtesy of sweet Jane

This week I started TENNIS LESSONS. Somehow I miraculously convinced 5 other women that this was a good idea, and they started with me. BD had to push me out the door that first night because I was so nervous. But in the end, it was the most fun I've had in a good long while. Once we had been chastised for not having the right shoes or the right equipment Coach Karl initiated us to the court and while observing us giggling and high-fiving each other said "I have a feeling this is going to be 50% tennis and 50% ... something else." That remaining 50% is yet to be determined, but we sure did laugh a lot. Coach Karl should be knighted for his valiant effort spending over an  hour with the 6 of us delinquents. I'm looking forward to spending Thursday evenings with these beautiful ladies out in the sun, out on the court. Here's to trying new things, like tennis.

Congratulations to Bethany who is graduating from Law School today. Huzzah! I'm proud of her to the point of tears. Plus she ends emails with the words like, "Also, I think you're very good looking."

So naturally, I love her.

I am: ready

pinned

i am: ready which is

a rare state of mind

where things are ok

even as they be

open for anything

whatever that brings

because I feel peace

throughout my soul

all is quiet in me

being guided from above

which is not very far
if you stop to think

and not out of reach

even for me

i'd like to remember

this day tomorrow

and the next

and the next still

that for once i am:

not freaking out

:-) Happy Friday!

I am: Gaining Perspective

...on my way home...

I am: Twenty-Nine, a Weekend Birthday Recap

Someone had a birthday this weekend and I'm pretty much exhausted from all the celebrating. Not that I wouldn't mind dragging it out a few more weeks. I'm eagerly embracing the last year of my twenties, and the crows feet. It was a beautiful snowy long holiday weekend and I've been completely spoiled by family and friends. Thank you all (for the sweet phone calls, texts, drop-by's, and even the FB shout-outs).

A Long-Weekend Birthday Recap:

• L & T surprised me with a power-lunch at Bambara. It was sheer heaven to fine dine with two of my faves. You know your best friend loves you when she drives all the way up to the big city just for you. We three could have stayed all afternoon nestled in that houndstooth booth just talking. Or whatever.
• Another surprise lunch with LtB who happened to be in town and happened to be right in my neighborhood at just the right moment. Serendipitous I tell you! French Onion soup at Goumandise, please.
• A date night with my beau. He gets triple extra points for making reservations and planning a very special evening for the two of us. Not just dinner, but a true culinary experience at Forage. We're now totally broke, but it was worth it.
• A foot rub and breakfast in bed: BD can make a mean bowl of porridge. Never underestimate a man with a whisk.

• Lunch with mom and sisters, and the best burger I've had in a good long while. I keep waiting to grow out of my cheeseburger and fries phase, but there's always my thirties, right?
• Treats from La Bonne Vie at The Grand America. I'm trying really really hard to embrace macaroons like the rest of the world, but I just can't do it. I have yet to eat one that I'm even remotely excited about.
• A new stove!! Miracles. I guess BD was starting to notice the lack of culinary goods being produced from our kitchen. He's no dummy. 
• They hauled THE BEAST away. I did not shed a tear. There was no moment of silence.
• It's possible that I've kissed my new stove several hundred times. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.
• A successful lesson on Sacrifice taught in church. Successful in that it's over, and that feels really good.
• No Sunday night blues! Just a Sunday afternoon spent lounging in my yellow ice-cream cone pajama pants. You know you want some.
• And because this weekend was not food-centric or caloric enough, a liege waffle with crème fraîche and strawberries from Bruges. I thoroughly enjoyed watching my friend J's first experience with a Belgian waffle.You never forget your first time.
• A whole day spent with BD running errands, carefully selecting items for care-packages to Brazil, neighborhood house gawking, and trying fun new drinks. I love that he's always up for an adventure.

Whew! I need an extra day just to sleep it off. Truly, I have the best, most thoughtful family and friends. I love you all. Thank you for making me feel good-enough, and young-enough, and simply loved-enough.

I am: An Art Lover

We're having something of a lazy Saturday, both of us catching up on some work while still in our pajamas, eating leftover chocolate cake for breakfast and breakfast burritos for lunch. We've watched this commercial about 7 times already. Cutest thing I've ever seen. I couldn't be happier bundled up on the couch listening to MJ hits, watching BD furrow his brow at giant spreadsheets. You know, he has a post-grad degree now so technically I should be referring to him as Master BD. He just rolled his eyes at me.

At the MoMa, 2008

Anyway! This week Google announced the Google Art Project which is a street-view take on art museums all over the world. Genius, right? I don't even have to tell you how amazing it is or how much I love it, but I'm going to anyway. Just know that if I were explaining this in person I would be talking in my one octave too high excited voice and flailing my arms a lot. I love art. I love what art teaches us about our past. I'm fascinated about what influenced the artists and the ways in which they pushed political, religious, and social boundaries through art. If I'm not careful, I can become really geeked out about art. Today as I'm looking out at the cold gray hillside I'm also taking a stroll around the Met. Yesterday when I needed a 5 (or so?) minute break from work I went to Florence and stood in front of "The Birth of Venus" at the Uffizi Gallery. You can even zoom in really tight to see every brush stroke. If you're into that kind of thing ;). No doubt I'll be following this project closely to see what museums and what art pieces they continue to add to the collection. I love it, because I am an art lover.

Detail of "The Starry Night" by Vincent Van Gogh

Because it's right on topic I'll leave you with one of the best movie lines of all time from Clueless:
Tai: Do you think she's pretty?
Cher: No, she's a full-on Monet.
Tai: What's a monet?
Cher: It's like a painting, see? From far away, it's OK, but up close, it's a big old mess.

I am enough

February is pink and red and heart shaped. As if that's not fabulous enough, February is also my birthday month and therefore becomes saturated with excuses to pamper myself and eat copious amounts of cake. I can handle that. Not that I've ever required an excuse to eat cake, but once a year it's nice to actually have a reason. Fact: I grew up with a girl named January and always wondered why I wasn't named February. It made so much sense at the time. Life as a 7 year-old was ridiculously unfair.

[Enter 100 self-deprecating comments about this photo]. Image courtesy of my amazing, ever-talented and dearest friend Jessie.

January came and left and I didn't even give a smidgen of a thought to producing New Year's Resolutions of any kind. Been there. Done that. Failed at most. I'm, like, so cliché. I'd like twenty-eleven to be the year I stop trying to change. This is the year I celebrate who I am right now. The best part is that it doesn't require a gym membership, a big fat mortgage, or septuplets. Take THAT 2010. I'm going to give myself a break this year and just be me. I am enough.* The catch though, because there is always a catch, is that this concept is a hazy camouflaged kind of sort of resolution. Just by typing "I am enough" I nearly choked on my own inadequacies. It is much easier to think of all the things I am NOT. The real trick is to focus on all the things that I AM. That's the goal.

via

Recently someone gently reminded me that the infinite Atonement is not just for sins. The Atonement also covers our heavy emotional burdens such as sorrow, disappointment, fear. And it instantly clicked with me. I am enough, because He can make me whole again. Jesus is totally invited to my birthday party! I'm admitting to myself right now, upfront, that this could be at least a year-long process. Just as I'm about to hit publish on this post I'm fighting the urge to call a friend to have her read it first. Is it dumb? Do you hate it? VALIDATE MY CRAZY!! I'm a work in progress people.

Comments Off because now I'm feeling vulnerable :).

*The concept "I am enough" is taken from Brené Brown's 2010 TED speech The Power of Vulnerability, I highly recommend you take 20 minutes for yourself and watch the whole thing.