Written March 12, 2016
The calendar is not joking.
It really is 2016.
This year, I’m turning 30.
Wow!
When I was 10, I wanted to be 20.
When I was 18, I wanted to be 26.
When I was 25, I wanted to be 40.
Huh.
I actually skipped wanting to be 30.
And the idea of turning 30 never occured to me.
It’s a big number NOT in the sense that I feel like I’m getting older as in physically old with fine lines, wrinkles, saggy breasts, and all. (I’m quite proud of my skincare regimen and my bazooka breasts after three kids. Thank you very much…)
Thirty is a big number now flashing like neon sign infront of my face. It’s making me feel like I’m going places because I’ve been eternally stuck in the different exciting phases of my 20s that suddenly it’s a surprise to be only five months away from entering the world of three and zero.
My super selfish plan was to get married at 30 then have kids at 35. I have always pegged 30 as my marrying age because it was 10 years away from 20, the age when relatives – aunts, uncles, grandparents – started bugging me about having a husband and children. I took pleasure in seeing them wince and whisper to each other about the possibility of me, the then Cris Evert Lato, growing old as a spinster with only my career as my lover.
Then Jeff entered the picture and messed up my super selfish plan. Or if I look at it the other way, I let him ruin my super selfish plan. I feel good about that.
Married at 26 and first-time Mom at 27, I still didn’t think seriously about turning 30 and what I want to happen with my life in my 30s. I planned my 20s to be the one decade of exploring career opportunities, writing in newspapers, finishing at least one graduate program, doing more volunteer work, traveling in depth, and dating intelligent men.
I pretty much got all those covered and ended up with an intelligent man for a husband and three children who, by far, I consider as smart and cunning given my biased standards because I’m their mother.
In my 30s – with Jeff and the kids in the mix – my super plan is to write a book and get it published, finish another master’s degree, finish my doctorate degree, travel and explore Italy with Jeff to trace the Ruffolo lineage in Calabria and visit the Ruffolo castle, continue my home classroom, go back to full-time work, and travel with Mom.
And then I’m leaving a lot of room for spontaneity and flexibility.
It’ll be fun.
Challenging but fun.
Four days after I turn 30, my Mom would be 49.
I think that’s really cool.
Me bidding my 20s goodbye and Mom just about ready to step in her 50s, still beautiful and full of faith.
