Well, I’ve been 30 for almost 24 hours now. I must say, I don’t feel a day over 29…yet. I was hoping that when I hit the big 3-0, I would get this great, huge surge of patience when dealing with a headstrong 2-year-old. Not so much the case. I felt like yesterday, I had no patience for Owen wanting to climb the stairs on his own, or hold his own non-sippy cup at dinner, or for him not wanting to fall asleep until approximately 9:47 last night. I don’t know why I thought that 30 was going to be some magical number. At least for right now, nothing has changed.
What has changed is that I’m now a little more panicky, a little more worried about stupid things. What if I never get to experience This or That, because I’m now 30. I feel scared that I should have done more in my 20’s, so I could look back on my life and tell stories of what a crazy time I had during those 10 years. But I look back, and I see that I did nothing crazy. I followed rules. I obeyed. Sure, I did pack up my VW and drive it and all my possessions to New Orleans when I was 19, but that wasn’t in my 20’s. I got married. We bought a house. We started a family. All in that order.
But then again, I do look back and I don’t know if I would want to change anything. If any of these factors in my life were different somehow, I wouldn’t have Owen. And super cheesy, but this kid is my world.
Owen is the BEST thing Sean and I have ever done.