Recently my close guy friend, Marc -whom I like to refer to as one of the two brothers I never/always wanted, turned thirty. His wife threw him an amazing outdoor surprise party, with a “Kid at Heart” theme. His cousins, brothers and sister, and friends with their babies and dogs too, came from near and far. We ran and sat around outside on a beautiful spring day playing with Nerf guns, wiffle balls, and frisbees. There were adult and child-friendly beverages. We grilled out, we hung out, and had an overall amazing Saturday.
While blowing bubbles and watching the pinata fun it got me thinking that all too often we easily find ourselves focusing excessively on grown-up business.
I loved my early twenties filled with new-found freedom, probably too much liquor, and countless self-defining experiences. But for all the fun, much hard work existed. Sure college required attention, but so did writing resumes, tackling interviews, and figuring out the labyrinth of insurance (health, car, et all). Relationships were complicated, both with boyfriends and girl friends. By my later twenties paperwork abounded, alarm clocks regularly intervened, and important decisions demanded way too much brain power. This all paid off, of course.
Now in my thirties I find a beautiful, delicate balance. My bank account does not require (as much) constant monitoring, thanks to a job I enjoy. I actually have a savings account, albeit the amount rightfully fluctuates as we do things like buy a house or encounter a job loss. We take trips and celebrate friends’ weddings. We make time for dinner at home and quality time together out with our niche. I still need to consciously take care of my body, but with less obsession and more acceptance. My circle of friends are close at heart, my husband by my side, and fur-babies by my feet.
All this does not happen without an awareness, however. Insurance and bills still confuse me. Decisions are still weighed before leaping, and a husband consulted to compromise. The alarm clock keeps buzzing, yet I chronically arrive places fashionably late.
After all this time and many lessons learned, I don’t feel old – I feel established.
And you can bet I will always play with toys, although sometimes I need reminders to do so.
This thirtieth decade trumps the twentieth, even if it means pretending to act grown-up!