“What are your skin concerns?”
It took me approximately two seconds to answer that question, and I quickly checked acne and fine lines as my problem areas. (Fine lines is the cute PC term for it’s offensive synonym: wrinkles.)
I continued to complete my online skin care profile, but those two answers mesmerized me. What kind of wack world am I living in where I’m ordering acne wash AND wrinkle cream?!
I noticed that my skin had begun to change one morning on the way to church as I applied lipstick in the car mirror. Those car mirrors have a way of spilling all of my secrets. “Fine lines” now dance around my eyes where it used to be perky and carefree.
I muttered the B word under my breath.
“Don’t do something so drastic. It’s okay to age. You just have to accept it,” stated my husband.
He was so right. (Don’t you hate it when that happens?) I’m no longer a fresh faced twenty something with loads of extra energy pulling all nighters, but instead, I’m a sometimes exhausted busy mom of three. And it’s okay to age, after all.
This is in an interesting stage of life I’m in. Besides still dealing with breakouts and now battling wrinkles, so far my thirties are ever changing and busy. My twenties were mainly filled with fun and then later newborns, but I’ve begun to notice that things have shifted. I now wear many different hats, and there are so many intertwined facets that contribute to life in my thirties.
Life in my thirties is filled with practice. Football practice, cheer practice, practicing life, and practicing motherhood.
Life in my thirties is watching my children grow and develop their own unique personalities. It’s helping my daughter with her nightly homework and quickly realizing everything has changed and seems to be written in another language. (The term “borrowing” is so 1990’s.)
Life in my thirties is marriage struggles and marriage makeups. It’s trying to hunt down a sitter in order to have a seemingly non-existent date night. It’s watching my husband be an amazing father and continue to be a husband that constantly makes me proud.
Life in my thirties is juggling a toddler all while maneuvering the new world of big kids. It’s scheduling volunteer time around my toddler’s nap schedule in order to avoid a tantrum in the copy room. It’s realizing I’ve wiped bottoms for nine years straight and worrying about how my soon to be preschooler will use the school bathroom by himself without making a huge mess.
Life in my thirties is watching my grandparents grow older and wondering how time has slipped through our fingers so quickly. It’s watching the love in their eyes as they play with their great grandchildren and remembering my own fond childhood memories with them so long ago.
Life in my thirties is mortgages and bills. And then a few more surprise bills thrown in there when money is tight. It’s having a stable career but wondering how in the world we’re going to pay for college tuition someday.
Life in my thirties is watching my older children choose their own friends and veer out of the structured playdate realm. It’s taking a step back and watching their budding genuine friendships form. It’s listening to stories of playground fun and also hearing about eight-year-old girl drama in the car on the way home from school.
Life in my thirties is setting boundaries on tricky parenting subjects like cell phones and sleepovers. It’s saying no to my child when all of the other parents said yes. And then wondering if I should have said yes.
Life in my thirties is bursting with joy and friendship and laughter that, unbeknownst to me, I was lacking in my twenties. It’s good friends helping me with the hard choices. It’s finding happiness in life and being okay with aging.