Sixty-four minutes from now will be the day my mother gave birth to me 30 years ago. Thirty years. 30. 3-0 yall. Like three whole decades. Which makes sentences that start with “10 years ago…” Not sound foreign when they exit my lips. I can ACTUALLY remember – with clarity- things that happened 20 years ago. *sigh*
I’m actually having a very hard time with this. And I have no idea why…. I love my life- couldn’t ask for a more amazing husband who loves me- I have four (yes 4!) beautiful children who surprise me daily with not only their mind, but their hearts. Zayd constantly calls my name 423,569 times consecutively JUST to say “I love you Mommy” when he finally gets a reply. Tyce brings me flowers from the backyard on almost a daily basis because they are “beautiful like you Mommy”.
My oldest constantly amazes me with how mature and put together she is- as a 1st grader. She helps me in ways she doesn’t even know. When I see her imitate me I swell with pride. Which also causes me to fall to my knees and pray that I am a worthy example to be followed. My Ezryi Jane has proven her name to be true over and over in the past 13 months – God is my Gracious Help and he shows that to me through every grin that appears on that sweet face.

People tell me thirty is so much better than twenty- you’re more established, more comfortable in your own skin, less concerned with others opinions… I can see how that could be true.
I guess I just feel like it’s an ending to something so beautiful. I got married in my 20s. I had every one of my four babies in my 20s. We bought our house in our 20s. I found my niche in my job- I just have thoroughly enjoyed my 20s.
And now it’s gone.
And 30 seems so foreboding and unknown.
It feels a little confining and uncomfortable and awkward. Like a brand new pair of running shoes that needs to be broken in. I feel like blisters are kinda guaranteed.

Regardless of my readiness, the minutes slowly and steady approach the day that I have been dreading and ignoring. So- in an effort to psych myself up for being thirty, (yay🎉) (please tell me he sarcasm dripped off your screen while
reading that
) I would like to begin a wish list.

10 Things to accomplish in my Thirties.
1. Grow closer to the Lord and his Word through Bible Study and daily quiet time.
2. Go on a mission trip to Africa. (Possibly with one of my children)
3. Buy or build our “forever” home.
4. Run no less than a marathon a year.
5. Play more with my kids, spend less time cleaning.
6. Learn how to make a decent pot of Jambalaya for my sweet Cajun husband.
7. Become a triathlete.
8. Complete an ironman.
9. Read more books. For fun. For me. That don’t have characters named “Lightning McQueen” or “Snow White”.
10. Stop counting age as a barometer for living. Embrace the time – the experience that living a little life gives you. Wear it with honor, not embarrassment.

Wow- it’s amazing what relief perspective can give you. Maybe the next decade won’t be confining at all. Sounds rather exciting now that I pen it all down. I guess it’s time to call it a night and stop avoiding the inevitable. Ready or not- tomorrow’s coming. But if you do happen to bump into me tomorrow- don’t be a jerk please be kind.