Friday, July 28, 2006

Disaster struck...

well, it struck the Little People village, at any rate. My kids set up an elaborate town, had the characters interact, then had the town get destroyed by a tornado. What? There was recently a twister episode of some kids show or another (they all run together, don't they?), so I'm assuming that's where they got it from. But still, a little weird.

And, um, what else is going on? Um, nothing special. I guess maybe it's getting kind of close to my birthday. Like Sunday. But no big. Right? ... Right? Really, it's not a big deal at all. Seriously. I'm totally okay with turning thirty. I actually feel like it gives me a bit of legitmacy as a wife and mother for some reason. You know, like last year, I felt very young most of the time standing with the other preschool moms, partly due to age and partly just because that's how I am. So this year I'll be 30.

But I do have to confess that there's a pretty big part of me that's disappointed in where I am now. Not that I'd really change anything, because ultimately I'm happy, even if I'm not happy every single minute (who wants that anyhow?). But I thought I'd have a master's degree, have written several novels (I haven't even written several chapters of a novel), be financially in control (turns out I'm still an ostrich about money - I tend to stick my head in the sand when it starts to freak me out. And that ain't good. I'm trying to get it all figured out again). I guess I just see thirty year olds as being much more with it than I am. But that's ever my life. There's always someone who's more together than me. Mainly I'm okay with that. I'm capable of envying them and accepting me for who I am at the same time. But sometimes a major thing comes along and makes me question that easy acceptance I've come to. These things I admire about other people, could I maybe do them too?

A year ago, I set a list of 30 goals. And I have done maybe four of the thirty. I'm disappointed in myself. And yet proud of the stuff I have done in the past year. I've learned so much about photography - still have a ways to go, but this time last year, I just wanted to take cute baby pictures and hearing "f-stop" made my brain shut down. Now I can actually explain what that means to another person. I'm trying again (again!) to teach myself to knit. Three years ago (during Hurricane Isabel), I taught myself to crochet using a website's instructions. Now I'm an old pro. Knitting, I've tried several times with no success whatsoever. Those little sticks make me crazy. So I decided to give it another shot, maybe a different instruction book will explain it in a way that clicks for me. So far, so good. I've cast on 20 stitches. I'm at a roadblock with the next step, but I've never made it this far before.

I haven't lost the weight I wanted to and I like to blame that on my gallbladder issues as much as possible. It's easier than remembering the birthday cake I ate last Tuesday, Friday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Or the other snacks I like. I'm not working out the way I used to. I know I just need to start small again and I'll make it back to what I used to be able to do, but right now that's frustrating.

I tend to place significance on things that aren't and end up disappointed. I did every year on the first day of school. It would be a fresh start. I could remake myself, be a better student, be stylish. Have clean notebooks, at least. I was inevitably disappointed. I'm hoping that I'll outgrow that tendency one of these days. Hasn't happened yet, but one day...

I approach my thirties with hope, the way I like to approach every day. Each day is full of potential, waiting for me to figure out how to use it. Now if I can just get my lazy ass up and enjoy the rest of this one. The second to last day of my twenties.

Two more days. Less than forty-eight hours. Farewell, my twenties.

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