TWENTY9 + One....

So. I am bringing myself to put this in print...
To admit to myself and the rest of you, my faithful (maybe 10) readers.

I've not yet said this aloud, because it is actually admitting that I am no longer twenty-something and I have moseyed on into the thirty-something category. (Still not actually saying it out loud)

I think when I was younger the number...or age {30} was OLLLLLLLDDD! It meant maturity. Life. Marriage. Kids. Jobs. Mortgages. It meant you should know where you are in life and you are supposed to act like it. I think my girlfriends can all agree with me on this one that this particular "number" had a certain allure to it. Although we thought it was "OLD", we dreamt about being in that place. For me at one point it was being married, working as a nurse, two kids in a house with a white picket fence...in Colorado, driving my Mercedes and being on top of the world. I'm about half-way there, but in a totally different way that I ever thought.

But this..."number" means nothing close to that. For some it means just completing your first degree, some...having your first baby. Some it means having your last baby and closing that door for good. Others it means starting a brand new journey and moving your life to a totally different country. Wow. So many different perceptions on this. Different ideas and different dreams.

So here I am now (2 days before I turn 29 + 1), still acting 20-something, living day by day my life that God has blessed me tremendously with. I'm happy. I am more than happy of where I am and soo excited of where I am going.

Thirty? It's just a number. It's a new step in life...
It’s the journey, not the destination. And I’m just getting started.

If you’d ask me 10 years ago where I thought I’d be now...well, you know...my answer might be just right on target, or it might have been waaaaaay off.

The same will probably be true in 2020. (lets NOT go there...)

And I would’t have it any other way.