Thirty Is Something!

A few more days, and it will be the 10th anniversary of my 21st birthday. Thirty one! Thirty one!?! It just doesn't sound right. I can't even believe I am thirty yet. There's no stopping time, I know. And on Saturday, I will celebrate my thirty-first birthday.

I told my father in law a few weeks ago that this year of my life had been the most challenging I could remember. The good thing about challenges, are the rewards. I doubt Miley Cyrus really knew the depth of the song “The Climb” when she recorded it at 16 years old. I know I couldn’t have at 16. I’ve done a lot of climbing this year. And it seems like once we get over one hurdle, another one presents itself.

I dealt with job losses in my family, when I was 30. Just a few months before my 30th birthday, Ryan was laid off and I was laid off from my second job. Ryan’s job had been the first steady wage job he had since our return to Texas from Durango in 2004. From 2004 to 2007, he was self employed as a painter and the pay was hit or miss. At that time I was gainfully employed as a Mortgage Underwriter. My second job had been an extra source of security through all of the rainy days. When Ryan started working for Hoffman’s Cabinets in 2007, we decided as a family that I should give up the full time underwriting gig for a less stressful job. I wanted to focus on being a mother more and my career less. So I took a considerable pay cut and took an entry level position at Vought. I kept the second job to make up for the pay cut. Needless to say, when Ryan lost his job in early 09, and I lost my second job as well, there was a great burden on us financially. It just so happened that I was also pregnant with Gage at the time. We watched the economy continue to spiral down as Ryan looked for a job. One that would support the lifestyle we had become accustomed to and our life once Gage arrived. When I turned 30, there was no job in sight, and I was 7 months pregnant. God continued to provide. I kept telling Ryan week after week, you’ve got to get a job by September or we will really be in trouble. The added cost of daycare for Gage once I returned to work in August was going to quickly make the situation dire. Ryan did find a job, in October. A company that he had called upon nearly a year prior finally contacted him with an open position. They offered him a fair wage, and a good amount of overtime to hopefully compensate for the difference in wage from his previous job. Although the overtime has not been consistent, the job is a blessing. We have done a lot of praying, and have made a big life decision to sell our home. We are trusting in God to bring a buyer so that we can downsize and get back on a healthy financial road.

I had my second child, when I was 30. When Gage was born, we couldn’t have been happier. We had tried for our second child for nearly a year. I had been so heartbroken month after month when it didn’t happen. To finally hold him in my arms was one of the most joyful moments of my life. The day after Gage was born, he was scheduled for a circumcision. The circumcision went poorly due to an error by the doctor and we were immediately filled with fear that our son may have long lasting side effects from the mistake. Fortunately, the doctors were able to fix the mistake during a second surgery a month later. During that surgery, Gage developed a contusion due to a broken blood vessel. It caused a lot of bleeding, and a second surgery was required to stitch up the vessel. Because of the amount of bleeding the doctor ordered blood tests to check for blood disorders. Although Gage was not diagnosed with a “bleeding disorder”, they found a condition called Neutropenia. Neutropenia is caused when your body does not produce enough Neutrophils, the portion of your white blood cells that fight off bacterial and fungal infections. The diagnosis meant several doctors visits to a Pediatric Hematologist, as well as several sleepless nights and anxiety filled days. Gage’s neutrophil count is now testing just below normal, and his doctors expect that he will have a normal count at his next visit (one week before his 1st birthday).


My daughter turned 4, when I was 30. She went from a baby to a child. She grew a foot. She got a big girl hair cut. She got a big girl bed. She added 2000 words to her vocabulary and added some non verbal communication skills to her arsenal (rolling eyes, shaking her head, slamming doors). It has been a challenge this year, learning to parent a child instead of a parenting a toddler or baby. I am tested almost daily, as she constantly tries to expand the box that I put her in. And yes, her box has expanded quite a bit. She is now allowed to ride her bike in the street, with supervision. She gets to go on play dates. She has her own CD player and her own CD collection. She can play in her room with her door shut. She can pick out her own clothes. She can even take a shower by herself. Each time she gains a piece of independence, she gets a little bit more eager for more. We are constantly evaluating what she should be allowed to do. I am always trying to find the grace in listening to her requests, instead of putting them off and not listening. Trying to find the balance between negotiating and arguing. Trying to draw the line between what is acceptable for a four year old, and what is not. I am grateful for the support system I have in my parents and in laws, and grateful for their war stories from mine and Ryan’s youth. It’s good to hear that what she is going thru is just normal kid stuff, and not a reflection of my poor parenting skills. Ella is such a beautiful, smart, energetic child. I could not be more blessed.

My twin sis had a baby, when I was 30. Sweet Dylan. Sweet Kiki. What an amazing family. I am filled with love for both of them. I love watching Dylan grow and change. I love watching my best friend and sister as a mother. But with the addition of Dylan, there were some internal adjustments for me. The addition of a grandbaby to the local’s grandbaby union meant giving up some attention. Not necessarily attention on me, but attention on my family. I did expect Ella Grace to be jealous, and knew Gage would be much too young to even notice. But what I didn’t expect was to be jealous myself. The mature 30 year old I am and all. Why would a 30 year old woman be jealous of her sister whom she loves so dearly? Why would I be envious of the attention, when I know that I am blessed with parents who love me and love my children without hesitation? Those were questions that I had to ask myself the first couple months of Dylan’s life. I knew that the way I was feeling was very selfish and wrong, but I couldn’t keep the feelings from surfacing. I finally conquered them through prayer and bonding with my sweet nephew Dylan. What a dummy I was, really.

So as 30 draw to an end, and I look back at the big challenges I’ve faced I realize that I have finally grown up. I am an adult. I have two beautiful children who love me with their “whole hearts”. I have an amazing husband who loves me for better of for worse. We continue to work together to overcome some financial hardships, and are brought closer daily as we rely on each other as helpmates. God blessed me with my twin sissy, who has always loved me for who I am. I have an amazing family and have amazing friends. I have a savior. I have all that I need. The challenges that I’ve faced have done a lot of work in my heart and soul this year. And I have gained a lot of confidence in myself that I never had before. So I hope I will always remember that when I was 30, I finally accepted me. At 16, I colored my hair a dark red color. It didn't work. At 20, I got real skinny. I thought for sure that worked, but it sure took a lot of work. I've worn high heels to feel pretty. I've worn tennis shoes to look like the girl next door. I've sworn off makeup, and I've sworn that I'll never go in public without makeup. I've tried to buy colorful clothing, black clothing, tight jeans, loose jeans. I have tried to be more outgoing, less obsessive. I’ve tried to not cry every time I sing a hymn at church. I’ve tried to sneeze one at a time, instead of 5 at a time. But here I am, who I am. And for the first time in my life, I don't feel like changing me. I feel like embracing it. I feel good about me. For that reason, thirty is good, and I know thirty one will be even better!