On Turning 32

Last month, I turned 32. Being 32 is much easier than turning 30. I spent my whole 29th year worrying about the big 3-0. I'm figuring out the thirties aren't so bad.

When I hit three decades, a lot of things in life started to make more sense. I've come to understand that in my teens and early twenties, life came easy to me. Being thin, making friends, achieving good grades, world travel, going to college, opportunities galore . . .

I believe this is one reason why, when the grown-up world started to settle in, sometime in the mid-twenties -- long work hours, bills, cellulite, wrinkles, headaches, etc. -- I became very whiny complaining annoying, myopic and lacking in gratitude.

The sad part about growing up and gaining just a smidgen of maturity (I can only imagine how different the world will look at 40, 50, 80 . . .) is realizing how much I took for granted before. When I was young and thin, living a carefree charmed life, I spent a lot of time stressing out about the little things. Now, I think, "Seriously, what could have been so stressful back then?" My present life has 100x more stress, but I'm less stressed out. I'm finally starting to realize what the 'big' things are, and exercising gratitude for the small trials in my life by comparison.

Laughably, I remember one time when Soph and E-Man were two-years-old and a baby. It was a Friday night and Photoguy was working late. I hauled the kids down to Wal-Mart and I was walking around thinking, "Wal-Mart!? I never in a million years would have envisioned myself alone with two kids at a Wal-Mart on a Friday night." Because, Friday nights are for going out on glamorous dates, right? Then, when I was waiting in the check-out line, I looked over and saw a guy I'd known in high school waiting a few lines over. He was really popular back in the day, yet, here he was, alone, at Wal-Mart buying diapers. "So this is what our lives have come to," I lamented.

I would never think that way now. Maybe it's sad to admit, but going to Wal-Mart on a Friday night wouldn't even phase me. And, I would rather look at a scenario like that and be grateful for my kids (even if I have to haul them to the store on a Friday night -- I took so much of Soph and E-man's babyhoods for granted), grateful for a husband who is out working hard to provide for our family so I can live in the lap of luxury (aka stay-at-home-mom -- I spent too many years complaining about the struggles), grateful for the money to go shopping and grateful for the many highly convenient shopping facilities . . . the car that got me there . . . well, you get the picture.

It's nice to get past all the fanciful fairy tales of youth and start to really enjoy life instead of being disappointed that it's not like Hollywood. Now . . . if I could just have the body back -- the one where I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and never gain one ounce -- I cross-my-heart-promise to never take it for granted again!