Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Dear 2010,

When I was 12 I used to dream about you. I'd sit during class with paper hidden under my books, doodling Garfield and figuring out how old I'd be when you arrived. People used to think I was working so hard, but even to this day as soon as I'm bored, I begin doodling or writing down ideas. Doesn't everyone do that? These days I'd be called "distractable", or maybe even "off task", and probably assessed for ADHD. What they didn't know was that I could listen and write at the same time, still absorbing everything that was being said.

Back in those days when we watched Michael Jackson videos, wore jelly shoes and acid wash jeans, you seemed so impossibly far away. So romantic. At lunch time I'd play games with my friends where we'd choose what kind of cars we wanted, how many kids we'd have or what type of house we'd live in, and I think that in some ways, I believed that some of those things might be possible.

So here we are, 2010. I drive a sensible Toyota, live in a rancher, have one kid, and didn't marry Harrison Ford (although Hubs is the same age, does that count?).

You are officially just days away and I'm staring down the last year of my 30's.

That's a bit scary. Thirties seems young, sort of like 20's more sensible sister but still just as pretty and fun. Forties makes me think of fifties, which signals things like becoming a grandparent and qualifying for the seniors meals in some restaurants.

Forty seems old and I'm so not ready for that. In fact, it's almost the same age Hubs was when we met. Where did all that time go?

I spent my twenties raising other people's children, trying to figure out who I was, and then becoming a parent myself. When I turned thirty I felt like I had finally arrived as an adult.

Now, I'm grown up. Whoa, was I in for a shock. What was I thinking?!

Thirties were when I finally had to act like an adult, and take on all the things that comes with it. Job losses and career changes, almost losing Hubs, becoming sick and injured myself, and the business of morphing from the girl that wanted to please everyone to the Momma Bear that would tear your head off should you go after my child. Yep, I grew up alright, and it was damn hard. Thirties, you were not fun. Oh you had some fun parts, yes. Overall you slammed us with some serious lows and not much in the way of extreme highs. You tested me in ways that I never thought were possible and at times I never thought I'd see the other side. I can't say I'm that sad to see you go.

2009 was a good year, though. I really figured out that I want to make a career of writing, and all the hard work that I've sunk into this blog has begun to pay off. My family is all doing well and we're happy, healthy, and together. The drama that was my 30's is tapering off, and things have smoothed out into an easy rhythm. That's all I could ask for, really.

Well. I would like to win the lottery and be a billionaire, like I had predicted in that stupid game but since I'm grown up now, I know the odds are just not in my favor.

So 2010, I'm planning to enjoy you and the last year of my 30's. Maybe you don't look as romantic and shiny as you did when I was 12, but I'm okay with that. You have laptops and iPod Touch, apps, downloads, Twitter, Blogger, and all sorts of fun things I would've given my right arm for at 12. I'll never forget the Christmas I desperately wanted a computer, and the idea of owning a computer was about as impossible as buying a Ferrari.

Now that I'm grown up I'll happily settle for peaceful and happy, with no big surprises or drama along the way. Deal?

They do say that life begins at 40, after all.



PS. But if you really feel generous, the lottery thing would be cool. Just sayin'.

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