30

I am 30 today.

I have all the grandparents I have ever known.  They are still alive and well, and I talk to them often.  It took me nearly 30 years to really appreciate their insights.  To admire their amazing commitment to their lives and each other.  I love to hear their stories of the old days, how they struggled for food, made 30 cents a day, worked a week for a days worth of food, lost their lovers to war, and suffered from diseases that have long been eradicated.

I am 30 today, and I am humbled.

I have best friends in the form of sisters who can always make me laugh, and who are always around to talk and whom I share so many wonderful childhood moments.  I have parents who understand me, love me unconditionally.  Who have guided me through the best and hardest parts of my life.  Offered sound advice for every challenge and who made me feel I would never be unloved, or against the world on my own.  Parents who make me want to be a better mother, who have taught me about real love before I knew anything of it.  Parents who light up when they see my children, and children who can't contain their happiness when they see their grandparents. 

I am 30 today, and a mother, and still my parents' child. 

 I have transitioned from a completely dependent infant, to a carefree child, to my teenage years where even admitting to having parents was embarrassing.  Weren't we so cool that we simply generated from our own awesomeness?  Did I not try, behind closed doors, to explain to my parents how uncool they were, and their very existence was eroding my own coolness.  I think my eyes rolled into my head for 4 years straight, no wonder my vision sucks.  Determined never to be like them....though sometimes they were right.....OK, a lot of times they seem to be right......I need to talk to my parents before I make this decision, they will know what to do....

They don't embarrass me now, not even a little.  Not even when my father introduces me by my name, profession, the number of children I have, their ages, how high they can count, something cute they just did/said, and (if he hasn't yet been cut off with a faux phone call) my sisters' names, professions, Alma Maters and children (even in their absence), often to complete strangers. 

I am 30 today, and I am still so cool, but my parents are even cooler. 

I have experienced pregnancy, a life being formed within me.  I have grown that life, nurtured that life, dreamed of these lives, and birthed them.  I have birthed a baby in a hospital, surrounded by doctors, nurses, and family.  I have birthed a daughter in my car alone, with nothing but the voice of my husband and a thick fog to guide me.  I have two daughters whose beauty overwhelms me, whose intelligence astounds me, and whose love envelopes me. 

I am 30 today, and I am surrounded by love.

I have the house I want, in the town I want, bought and paid for with a job I love.  A job which shows me the very worse parts of life, and allows me to experience the best.  A job that fulfills me in a deep way, but makes me look forward everyday to holding my family at the end of every day and reminding me to be very grateful for all that I have.  A job which allows me to spend most of my time at home with my family, a husband who would do anything for our daughters, which is all I ever wanted.  Two girls, who can stop me in my tracks, even on my busiest day, to just stare at them.  I am addicted to their faces, the sound of their voices, the smell of their hair, and their sleepy eyes in the morning, goofy smiles, and eyes that dance with happiness at things that instill chills of disgust in my over stimulated adult mind, spider webs, zig-zagging earwigs, slimy worms.  Gross critters that turn my stomach, can make my kids giggle.  They are fearless, wanting to touch, hold, and even taste.  I am full of fear, thinking of all the diseases they could catch, all the holes that could be invaded, all the night hours I am not watching that my children, my husband, myself, could be covered in disgusting, segmented bodies.  But my babies, they see none of the bad.  They only see fun bugs.  When did I lose that?  Well before 30, I am sure.  But now, I have my own silly bugs, and I too watch them for hours, giggling at their silliness and wanting nothing more than to pick them up and touch them, smell them, kiss them and wait for the next amazing thing this life has to offer.  I have a feeling, it won't be long. 

I am 30 today, and I am fulfilled. 
I am so very happy.