Turning Thirty: I've Lied To You

I need to tell you something. 

I have a confession to make. 

I've lied to you. 

For months I've written about my fear of turning 30. 
The fear of getting "old" and transitioning into a new decade in my life. 
The fear of my plans not working out as I once, naively assumed they would. 
I've written with humor, detailing how priorities change as I creep closer and closer to "the dreaded" thirty. 

But the truth is, 

I've never been afraid of turning thirty; 

I've been somewhat concerned 
that I never would. 

You see, for years I've had the same, short dream.
I never saw myself in the reoccurring dream.
The scene was always the same, the script identical.
There was only one person, crying, and through their tears they said:

"She wasn't even thirty..."

Referencing me, leaving before I had the pleasure of turning thirty.
I've had this same dream four times over the last five or so years. 
Not frequently by any means, but frightening, none-the-less.
The person speaking those words has changed each time.
Once a cousin.
Once a sorority sister.
Once a neighbor.
Then a family friend.
The dream has physically awoken me, and I've never made it back to Snoozeland afterwards.
I've never told anyone about it because, well, why should I? I've lost sleep over it; my family - my husband - doesn't need to.
(Though, I did reveal the dream to Cody last night, on the eve of my thirtieth birthday, before this blog went public. He was not entirely thrilled.)

Rather than tell my family, I've just lived my life.
Still crossing Hwy 35 at dusk to get the mail.
Still using Merthiolate that "expired" the same year I began kindergarten. 

Still exceeding the speed limit on occasion.
Still enjoying wine with friends.
Still using this blog to connect to people I'll never have the pleasure of meeting.
Still eating salad dressing that tasted much better in 2012. 

I've lived my life - 

Still  believing that it was just a strange, short dream.

And guess what...
It was!

Today is my thirtieth birthday and I'm pretty darn happy about it.
Cody woke me up this morning to tell me I'm still alive.
Twelve minutes before my alarm went off.
Not annoying....At all..............

I'm thirty - and rather than continue this illusion about dreading the idea of entering my third decade, I plan on celebrating big time!
Yep. We're going to a cattlemen's meeting tonight at the local joint in town -  Willie & Red's - sponsored by our local vet clinic.
PAR-TAY!

I'm thirty now...
So there is a chance my life may begin revolving around shoes with high arches and switching over to energy-efficient appliances. 

However...
When someone has strange dreams about missing out on life's big moments, they may write down a few things that they may want to pass on. The things that matter to them.
And by "someone" and "them,"...I mean me. I still want to share the things the 29-year-old me found worth passing on:

Being Different Is An Awesome Thing

We're each fortunate to be born an individual, then sadly we spend a large part of the rest our lives trying to be like everyone else. 
What is the sense in that?
Being Different Is An Awesome Thing. 
Confidence in yourself is the most attractive thing one can wear - men or women. 
Trust me:
Your future spouse isn't going to fall in love with you because you're like everyone else they've known.
Your future boss won't hire you because you're just like the person they're trying to replace. 
That college you're trying to get into? They won't accept you when your application falls into the "normal" pile. 
Those customers you want to maintain or gain? They're not going to do business with you when you offer something that everyone else does. 
Being Different Is An Awesome Thing. 

Profound contentment can be found 

when you're confident enough in your unique self 

that you're not concerned with 

others' evaluation of you. 

This being said, I am so not advocating going out in public in your pajamas. Pull it together and show a bit of respect for yourself, folks.  

Be Grateful

Remember, the things you take for granted may be the same things someone else is praying for.  Always extend a "thank you" when necessary - which is quite often throughout a single day.

Gratitude 
turns what we have right now, 

into enough.

....And that's living right. 

Eat Well

If you're ordering your steak medium-well or well-done, you're doing it wrong.

For the best tasting vegetables, grow your own. 

Truly fortunate are the folks who have the opportunity to pick, shuck, then enjoy American Mid-West sweet corn. What a treat. 

Butter is not a bad word. In fact, it's one of my favorite words and most-used kitchen accessories. 

Be Kind

Be kind: I can't say this enough. We live in a tough world and our grandkids are only going to have it worse. Make it your mission to leave things - places, situations and people - better than how you found them.

Get Up Early

There is a certain joy in getting up before the rest of the world's demands tug at your mind and obligations rearrange your personal clock. Take advantage of early mornings, where peace and quiet allow you to prepare for the day ahead. 
There is so much a person can get done in one day, if they're organized and rise early. 

And here is where I racked my brain trying to think of a witty one-liner about another perk of getting up early....but darn it - sometimes sleeping past 6:00 AM is good for a person. 

There you have it: 

The five things I found useful in 

surviving 29 rockin' years. 

Oh, 
so back to that strange, short, reoccurring dream 

in which my friends and family were crying 

because someone didn't make it to thirty-years-old. 

There is clearly only one explanation. 
You get it now, right?
It is quite obvious that

they were undoubtedly referencing 
Amy Winehouse. 

YIKES.

As for life in my thirties: 
Bring. It. On. 

Turning Thirty: Utilizing The Chinese Fire Drill

The thought of turning thirty next month continues to show up in my mind from time to time. 
Mostly just when I wake up or fall asleep. Sometimes in my dreams. 

I consider the age of thirty and everything I thought it would encompass when I was younger - in my teens and early twenties. At that naive, marshmallowy point in my life I figured by thirty I would be married to a guy I met in college and raising three kids on a farm with sweet corn in the garden. 

I was way off. 

I didn't meet The One in college, 
we have no children but plenty of cows and 
this spring we reseeded what was the garden back into grass. And though it seems I'm not living what I believed to have wanted 10+ years ago, I'm quite happy. I'm happy that together we're laying the ground work for a remarkable life, when not busy working cattle or selling the other's belongings in garage sales.

It is interesting the life map we mentally design for ourselves. The routes we plan to take and the anticipated stops along the way. And as we check off the things we get done, the places we see or the people we meet, it can be easy to forget that the simple days lived only to meet the next obligation or destination is actually life. 

I've always enjoyed studying maps and finding the best way to get somewhere, though not necessarily the quickest. As of late, I've realized that perhaps life without the map brings as much joy - or more - to a person. While I've focused on checking all the boxes, it's my hope I remember a bit of the view. Even when I'm (gasp!) SEVENTY.

Really, who are we to assume we get to pick the route? The school, the job, the house, the spouse - sure, all of these things become our choice and determine our direction. And since we're the ones determining the direction in which we move confidently 

that also makes us the driver. Keeping the foot on the gas and a close watch in the rear view mirror. 

The closer I creep towards thirty-years-old, the more clearly I realize the importance of a Chinese fire drill. Letting someone else take the wheel. Because beyond the map and the plan, I now understand that I simply can't do all of the driving. 

No matter how much I intend to use a map to route my life and the stops I anticipate, God is the ultimate navigator. He knows our end point, and the route we must take to get there. 
The pit stops
flat tires
amazing sunsets
blinding sunrises
dirty windshields 
speeding tickets and 
uncomfortable hours 
are all part of the trip planned for me.

And you. 

Don't be afraid to take a back road every once in a while, tossing the map in the back seat. Sometimes flat tires and other obstacles turn out to be blessings. Construction only means that better things are on the way. It is ok if you take a bit longer to get to the destination.

Be confident enough to allow a 
Chinese fire drill 
in your life. 

Remember:

Chinese fire drills give you the opportunity to enjoy the view and put the navigation in Someone Else's hands. 

Turning Thirty: A Shift In Priorities

Some get old. 
Some get wise. 
Some just get old. 

Someone asked a while back just how old I was. 
I told them 24. 
Didn't blink an eye.
Time. Flies. 
In my defense, 24 was a great year. I bought a house, took in a feral mutt I named Dixie and during a trip to Texas, was introduced to Malbec wine thanks to my friend Terri. 

A few great friends (and a brother and sister-in-law) have turned thirty over the last year and I've gotten a really good laugh out of it. 
They turned 30 and quite frankly, they got old. 
Like, had back surgery and became parents, old. 
They turned as old as Tim McGraw was when he sang, "My Next Thirty Years" - that's old. 

And maybe a bit trying to hard? 

But in the last two weeks, it's hit me, hard: I will turn 30 this summer. 

I WILL TURN THIRTY THIS SUMMER. 

Does that freak anyone out as much as it does me? 
Yeah, probably not. You're not the one turning 30. 
But quite honestly, all the signs of 30 are present. 
Some tapped me on the shoulder as I entered my birthdate preparing for taxes.
Some hung around a few hours longer than they needed to on a Saturday morning after a late Friday night.
Some initiated a call to my beautician..."I want to go lighter than last time," I vainly told her, to cover up the strands of gray I'd found. 
But all signs were accounted for. 

As I walk blindly into the light that is the big 3-0, every so often I'd like to give a brief list of five things that justifies my aging this much. Do you understand that this is me justifying it?

Turning 30: Five Shifts In Priorities

1. Instead of weekend getaways to Reno and Vegas, Cody and I now align our schedules so we can both be home to breed heifers, watch heat, or to have just one of us home, in general to take care of things. We took a weekend off in March to go see George Strait in Nashville. At Tootsie's Cody looked over to me and said, "Might as well live this up. These trips - just the two of us - will begin to be few and far between."
With a smile of agreement, I gladly understood.
Kids? Nope. 
Cows. 

Old Saturday afternoons:

New Saturday afternoons:

2. I care what kind of Kleenex and toilet paper I buy. It's no longer a matter of price, its a matter of comfort. We're simply too old for Great Value. 

3. I care more about my lungs and eardrums than I do the bar we're at. If I can't see you or hear you, don't even start a tab. 

4. I bought a pair of White Mountain shoes. Which might not sound like much to you, but this signifies my recognition of the fact that my feet are an important part of my body and they require care. And so do arches. 

5. When CS and I consider a splurge, we now do mental math to reconfigure what that dinner at Flemming's would buy us, otherwise. 
"That entire night, fuel, prime steaks, drinks...that is about the cost of a new metal feed bunk"...we mentally evaluate.
We choose the feed bunk and grill out.

Priorities change, bodies change, places change, and for some reason I'm having a bit of a challenge accepting the fact that I would have started kindergarten 24 years ago. Or that in ten years I'll be forty. Or that the ads on Facebook are targeting me for wrinkle cream. 

On the bright side (because there always is one), I read somewhere that you're 26 percent less likely to make a New Year's resolution in your 30s, but if you do make one, you're 26 percent more likely to stick to it. 

Well in that case, to those lingering ten pounds: Bring. It. On.