Welcoming a New Decade

Last Tuesday, I celebrated my birthday and with it welcomed in a new decade: I am now 30 (thirty!) years old. I can remember turning 10, and how exciting it was to enter the "double digits." And I can remember turning 20, and feeling relieved to finally leave the "teens" behind. But I must admit that it has taken much more effort to generate any enthusiasm about entering my thirties. I think of the show, "thirty something," which I loved in my early teens, and try to identify with it in some way. And I fail. I just don't feel like a 30-something. I can't possibly be that grown-up.

on my original birthday

1980

on my 10th birthday
1990

on my 20th birthday
2000

on my 30th birthday
2010

Anyway, I've been trying to convince myself that being 30 (or, more generally, in my thirties) doesn't have to mean anything. I've already accomplished a lot of what people hope to achieve in their thirties. Here I am, a married, mother-of-four, homeowner. But I do feel some pressure to, you know, figure out what I want to be, and all that.

Do I want to be a lactation consultant? Do I want to be a teacher? Do I want to be a writer? Do I want to start a charter school? Or a home daycare? What is my vision for the next 10 years? How have I still not figured this all out?

Aside from asking myself these existential questions, I have been busy celebrating. I spent my birthday going from one delightfully mellow activity to the next: a bike ride to an outdoor breakfast café, a couple of hours lying in the sun, a family trip to the Farmers' Market, a picnic at a local lake (bread and cheese and chocolate covered strawberries), topped off by an early bedtime for the kids. And then this past weekend, My Love together with my mom (and help from others) threw me the most perfect birthday party ever, complete with all of my beloveds, 60 balloons, Indian food for all, a backyard fire, musical instruments making beautiful noise (the guitar was passed from lap to lap), many children falling asleep one by one (until they were all-- all!--asleep, and the mamas and papas could keep partying), a mamas' arm wrestling competition, and finally: an epic game of Egyptian Ratscrew on the kitchen floor. At the end of the evening (or rather, when the party ended, early the next morning), I felt so very, very loved, and full of hope that maybe my thirties will continue to be so deliciously fun.

Some photos from the party:


It is hard to pick a favorite part--there were so many favorite parts--but if I had to choose one, I'd go with the music-making around the fire. And I especially loved watching my little curmudgeon leave his grumpiness behind for at least a few minutes while he got into the rhythm of the drumming:



So, I'm 30 now. And so far, it's really not so bad. It's kinda like being 20, except for I don't get carded anymore (ever! this is new in the last year), and I have this amazing house and all these kids. I still feel like I have my whole life in front of me, regardless of whether or not this is true, and I hope I hold onto that feeling for as long as possible. I can't wait to see what comes next.