Dont Fight the Funk... Just Kick it in the Shins and Move On

A year ago when I turned 29 I started contemplating the inexorable shift from my 20's into my 30's. I had only one year left to enjoy my twenties and I decided it was time to put on my big girl panties, take a good honest look at myself, and make peace with the whole package. I even made an actual list of things I'd never be great at (Don't Fight the Funk post.) I do love my lists! Even if they are self deprecating and slightly neurotic. I admitted that I'll probably never be great at doing my own hair and makeup, relaxing in an unkempt house or making snap decisions.  I even owned up to being a blurter and an open book. But I left out how I can't dance and how impatient I am and well...lots and lots of other things. It was more of a rough draft, really, than an all inclusive list.

So now a whole year has passed since these musings and that inexorable shift has happened. Its here. I've been 30 for four entire days now. Which basically makes me an expert. (Sarcasm here should be implicit. And if it's not, y'all are reading the wrong blog)

So I've had a whole year to get on board with this turning 30 business, and I've done an acceptable job of it I guess. I understand it's the end of an era. I can appreciate that. On the whole, Im content with my twenties. I entered them with a better figure and fewer wrinkles but I left them with a husband and two tiny tenders that have captured my heart and run away with it. It may have taken the better part of a decade, but I've gained a truer knowledge of who I am,  a clearer understanding of what Im about, and a closer relationship with my God. I'm more comfortable in my own skin. I care less what other people think. I listen more to my gut and my conscience. I appreciate more.

Ok. Not too shabby.

Except...

There's this whole gaggle of things I still desperately want to change! I want to have more gumption. I want to be more fearless. I want to be more positive. I want to speak less and listen more. I want to show more grace, even when it goes against the grain. Good Lord, I want to worry less! I want to get this uncooperative 30 year old body right and tight again. I want to have more fun with my kids. I want to loosen up. And good grief,  I want to learn how to do my hair and makeup already!

So Im thinking maybe there's some holy grail of a middle ground here? Not striving or fussing over the things that you can never change, while making a genuine effort to work on the things you can?
I guess I have the next decade to find out. Then at 40 I can re-evaluate and go ahead and have a mid-life crisis if I need to.

In the meantime, I HAVE branched out a little bit. I bought a curling iron and some eyeshadow, locked myself in the bathroom, and decided I wasnt coming out until I learned a thing or two. I emerged 3 hours later with a kink in my neck, a few burn marks, and slightly sweaty and highly irritable-  but all in all I'd say it was a success. I've learned how to do a smokey eye and sufficiently wield a curling wand...and on some days its even kind to me.

Husband and I even went dancing! I curled my hair, fumbled with some makeup, and even put on a little black dress. We were going out on the town! I used to be able to dance. Years ago. But somewhere along the line I became convinced I'd lost my mojo. But ya know what? I had so much fun! Mojo shmojo. See? Dont we look like we're having fun?

So after turning 30 and taking stock I'm sticking with "Be Who You Are and Own It!" And Im landing somewhere between "Dont Fight The Funk", and "Just Kick it in the Shins and Move On."
 Oh yes, its a real place.

Well Would'nt You Know...

Hello dear readers! I've missed you. Its been a busy month here at the Maxi Pad (my home) I know. Its a terrible thing to name a home. But like most jokes that stick, its slightly inapropriate and equally catchy. Im not even sure how it got started actually, considering there are an equal number of males and females living in our house. I think it traces back to Ladies Night. Not "going out" like most savvy chicks in their twenties probably do. No, we'd get in our sweats, eat desserts, and watch the Batchelor. Terribly wild of us, isnt it? Anyway, long story short, that's how nicknaming my home "the Maxi Pad" got started and this is where talking about it ends.

So life has been very busy this month, but I cant quite pinpoint why. Just business as usual I suppose. Big One is finishing her first year of preschool (single tear) and getting ready for her first ballet recital- all very grownup things for her little self. Im torn between pride and helplessness as I watch her turn into this independant little person. Little One is turning into quite the livewire and requiring much more of my attention as of late. The minute it gets quiet, is one minute too late to start looking for him. He's all dimples and innocence until he makes up his mind to be naughty. The closer we get to 2, the more I savor the days of sweetness and simplicity with him. I know they are numbered. Husband and I managed to sneak in a mini-break away together last weekend, which was lovely. There's nothing like waking up and realizing that I can shamelessly lie in bed for twenty minutes before getting up because no one needs me! Glorious. We enjoyed peaceful, leisurely meals, staying up late and sleeping in, and hours of bonding time in the car. We've been mulling over some decisions lately, and we were able to make some real progress towards that end. We always seem to get some of our best talking done in the car. Dont know why, something about the open road I guess.

In other news: I FINALLY, lost a few pounds! I recently shared my descent into fatness with you all (because you're the gracious and encouraging type) in my "For Realsies" post. I got myself into a funk and I've spent the past month spinning my wheels. I have been working out, eating clean, and that stupid scale was not budging. It could have something to do with the fact that (TMI alert) I started taking birth control pills again this month. Hopefully that's not an overshare. And if it is...too late! Im pretty sure it's contributed to at least 5 of my "extra" pounds. Blurg. 

So one whole month of these shenanigans and no real progress! So frustrating. Then my dvd player broke so I havent been able to do my P90X videos for a little over a week. Well would'nt you know, one week of not working out and even cheating a little with my diet, and I lost FIVE pounds! In one week! What the what?! I dont get it, but I am just going to be thankful and keep plugging away. Its tempting to test this theory further and see if I can do it again for another week, but something tells me that's not wise. It probably would just end up with me indulging my way back to the number I started from. The number that shall forever remain shrouded in mystery, rather than ever be spoken aloud.
Would'nt you know.

Dont Fight the Funk

October 25, 2010

So Im getting dangerously close to 30. And while I don't bemoan parting with my 20's- I do confess to feeling a little defiant about the fact.  In your 20's you're 'young'. You're vivacious and lively and carefree and maybe even a little bit foolish. But it's allowed.
So here I sit, on the brink of my very last year my twenties. My lovely twenties. I've decided (determined) that my 30's will be good. In your 30's you earn that self-possessed, self- assured, comfortable-in-your-own-skin air about you. And on that note, I've decided, its time to put on my big girl panties (the proverbial kind, not actual, grandma panties. After all, 30's is hardly the same as 70's) and face facts about myself. There are just certain things, that no matter how you look at it, I will most certainly never be 'great' at. And so I am going to accept each one and move on. So here's a shorthand list of what I've got so far.
1) I will never be great at doing my own hair or makeup. Its not that I dont care, exactly. Its more like Im a minimalist, but not by choice. I just lack the skills, and the genetic make-up to look fantastically put together without trying. You know the type. Every time I see one of these women, I really do want to pull them aside for a little pow-wow and ask them how they managed this. "Really! I genuinely want to know! Is there a secret? Some trick I did not learn yet? I'll keep it in the vault, I swear! Just tell me!".
Ah, I guess I will stick with my blown out hair and and mascara and blush and blend in with the rest of the world. At least I know my place.
2) I will never be great at keeping that joke, comment, random thought to myself. I blurt. Im a blurter. Im also very animated and I tend to be...(cringing as I even type this)...excitable. Which tends to make me louder. Sigh. Its true. But its who I am! So there. At least Im copping to it and owning it (I think). Im not, nor will I ever be, one of those peripheral people who quietly takes it all in, and doesn't let it all out. Which brings me to my number 3). I will never be great at hiding my feelings. Im such a bad liar. Generally whatever Im thinking, feeling, wondering is written ALL over my face. Not very handy. One of these days I'll learn to be more guarded. But for now, I'll go ahead being an open book. Its not such a bad thing.
4) I will never be great at relaxing in an unkempt house. There is no wiggle room on this one, either. I've tried. I'll feel irritable or slightly chaotic and I won't exactly know why. But voila! As soon as my house is clean and the smell of pinesol and comet wafts through the air, its like the sun suddenly shines out of my butt. It makes me happy. Not giddy happy, but the nice, pleasant, peaceful brand of happy.
5) I will never be great at making snap decisions. I hem and haw. I ask for input. I vascillate. But this one I I'd rather change than make peace with.
There are a lot of things that I AM. But that is a blog for another day. And there are a lot more things that I will never be great at. But these are the only ones I've made peace with just yet. So its, as I always say, "Dont fight the funk, eh?!" (I really do always say that). Cheers to one more year to soak it all up and figure it all out.