I'm turning 30, and I'm not super-excited. Partly it's a vanity thing. I think I look ok for having had two kids, but then again I could actually look better. I got the "30-Day Shred" dvd, and it hasn't helped much. Maybe I'll take the drastic step of unwrapping it from the plastic.
As a kid, I thought 30 was sooo old. I don't feel so old. I sleep well and eat right. I have a good sex life. I get plenty of exercise. I religiously wear sunscreen. I know who I am, and I'm ok with it. Is it just that I THINK I'm supposed to be unhappy about reaching 30?
Life is not what I thought it would be at this point. Financially we are spread sort of thin. I know that we are very fortunate to be able to afford two houses when so many can't afford one. But it is an adjustment for me, to pay the bills and have just a tiny bit left over. I am budgeting more carefully than I ever have before. It's not easy. We have basically bought duplicates of everything we used to own: more towels, dishes, kitchen gadgets, cleaning supplies, appliances, etc etc. We are still catching up from having been 10 weeks without a paycheck. I feel like we are drowning in debt. I guess it's best to stop watching the amortization schedule of our mortgages before I go nuts.
In terms of other aspects of my life, I am not where I thought I would be. We still don't know many people here. I had hoped for Jax to have some friends by now. We have been at the neighborhood pool nearly every day, hoping to meet some people, with no success. Mostly it's been bigger kids, and their moms have been... lame. Not the kind of people I gravitate toward. I guess when you buy a house in this kind of neighborhood you tend to get neighbors that are what Andy calls "yuppie". I just don't like to talk about the same things they do, and I don't have the same "look". You know, the perfect highlighted haircut, the $200 jeans, the carefully chosen jewelry. And I'm totally ok with that. Men are generally afraid that their wives are going to think they're flirting, so they don't talk to me for long. I guess what I'm saying is just that I'm lonely.
I thought by now I would know more. I still suck at playing the piano, I can't do entrelac, and I've never made a well-fitting pair of jeans for myself. I can't conjugate verbs in Latin. Not that you have to do those things to be happy, but they are things I want to know.
In other news, they are building the house next door, and so every time I go out, I feel like I'm walking into La Cabana, with the Latin radio blaring and all. This house is what I term "the ugly house". This is the house plan, if you're interested in the hideous monstrosity I'll be seeing every day from now on.
The good news is that my children are beautiful, and smart, and in every way the best part of my life. They give me a lot of anxiety: are they safe, will they turn out ok, what will happen to me when they're grown. Maybe I just need some sleep.
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wakeful dreamer