Who's Scared of Turning 30?

These days we twenty-year-olds are practically taught that turning 30 is a bad thing. A couple months before I turned 30, I was definitely feeling the burn. So, I got to thinking about my 20^th birthday.

Let me tell you about my 20^th birthday. I was already married and my hubby and I lived in the crappiest basement apartment you can envision. Even though I was a college graduate, my first job out of college was a temporary position and when it ended, I couldn’t find another job. So, I gave up looking for a serious job and started working at Dairy Queen to pay the bills. To this day, I would rather clean up a child who has poo smeared from his neckline to his ankles than clean the ice cream machine coated in petroleum jelly. The kid you can get clean. That machine? … I don’t think so.

Anyway, I was sitting on my crappy linoleum floor with the ugliest lighting that has ever been invented, looking at the pathetic cherry chip cupcakes I’d made for myself, rubbing my sore feet, thinking about my pay cheque which was a fraction of my old one – wishing for death.

Thirtieth birthday? Oh Baby – who wants to be 20? Thirty is wicked. Life has set in. I have kids, a house, my book published, my tenth anniversary behind me, and a myriad of other adult pleasures at my fingertips.

The best thing about turning 30 has to be my kids. You know, I think I was always bored until my first child was born. I mean, I had progressed to a great job by the time I got pregnant and doing it really represented a positive, important contribution to society. But, even still, it didn’t give me the same satisfaction that raising a child does. I had more time to write before kids, but once I got my creative impulses assuaged I had all this time left and no more energy for writing. So I had all this free time that was wasted on entertainment because I was bored and tired.

I also don’t think that mothering is a ‘thankless job’. I suppose that must set in when the kids become teenagers. I was a really angst-ridden teen, so it’s hard to imagine that my children will be any different. I remember times when I was ungrateful for my parents. Then I’d think, “Would you rather they didn’t have you?” Then I’d smarten up. I like breathing. And I like taking responsibility for myself. I think I’ll like teaching my kids to do the same – breathe and stand tall.

As a twenty year-old, I felt like I was treading water, waiting for life to begin. As a thirty year-old, I’m having fun watching my seeds sprout up into saplings. And even if no one thanks me – those little trees still grew.