Thursday, July 5, 2012

Discovering Thirties

I'm not sure if this is true for everyone, but I have found my thirties to be a decade of personal discovery unlike any decade prior. Although I am sure that this is just a natural part of growing older and maturing, I have to give credit to my children for helping to accelerate this enlightenment.

For example, I didn't completely realize how bossy I was until I witnessed Cara directing her brother or her cousin in one of her many plays. On a related note: Ian, I am very sorry for putting you in my dress up clothes and barrettes and making you go door-to-door asking for money.

I also didn't fully appreciate how much I wanted to be right until I went head-to-head with a two year old about whether Long Lake was a river or a lake. We're now going on year three for calling it the "river lake".I am learning about myself even today.

Even though I am still bossy with an intense need to be right, the recognition of these traits makes them feel somehow more correctable. And just when you think you've gotten yourself figured out, new things come to light. Why, just this past week I uncovered two new fears that I was previously oblivious to.

Last week, I was up at Connor's school  during Bruce the Bug Guy's presentation. Bruce brought out caterpillars, moths, hissing cockroaches, millipedes, and Rosie the tarantula without even so much as a grimace from me. I had always thought that I was cool with all kinds of insects until out came the scorpion and my brain said, "There's your limit."

Later that same week, I became aware of my intolerance for light-your-own fireworks when we spent Independence Day in South Dakota, where the legal restrictions on fireworks are tantamount to "eh, whatever". There were kids loaded up with armfuls of blowy-up-things and armed with punks to ignite those blowy-up-things. Kids loaded with sugar and the adrenaline that comes from being given permission to LIGHT THINGS ON FIRE AND MAKE THEM EXPLODE! I spent a better part of that evening half-watching from the "safety" of my car, trying to make amends with the Big Guy Upstairs for letting my membership lapse and asking if he would please spare my family from getting blown up on this otherwise-enjoyable holiday. (All family members are present and accounted for and have the same amount of fingers, toes, eyes, and hair that they started out with.)

Though I am rapidly approaching the end of my thirties, I am fairly sure that my journey of personal discovery is far from over.  And I have a talkative drama queen and an argumentative donkey to thank for that.

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