Thirty

Celebrating thirty a few months early, pedal tavern-style.

Thirty. Everyone told me it wouldn't feel much different than 29. They're right. But turning thirty makes me think back on the last decade of my life.

I started my twenties with a life-changing volunteer experience in Tanzania, Africa. I returned home from Africa with my heart on fire. Tanzania, specifically my time at the Nkoaranga Orphanage, shook me in a way that no other experience probably ever will. My passion for orphan care and adoption undoubtedly grew from this experience.

I celebrated my 21st birthday with my girlfriends drinking booze and eating Chinese food while getting my first (and only) tattoo. I'm pretty sure the year of 21 was sort of a whirlwind of (legally) trying out new bars that my fake ID (sorry, mom!) never allowed me access too.

I met Dave shortly before my 22nd birthday. Soon after, I completed my Bachelor's degree in Social Work and packed my bags for an advanced graduate program in Madison. Meanwhile, Dave proposed in June and I spent the summer wedding planning before heading off to Madison. Less than a year later, I was armed with a Master's degree and accepting my first big-girl job at the age of 23.

Dave and I purchased our first home that same year, just a few weeks after I finished up graduate school. We were married two months later on August 1st. A few months later I was pregnant for the first time. We'd lose that baby days before my 24th birthday.

A week after I turned 25 we celebrated the birth of our first child. Sophia's birth filled me with feelings of unconditional love. I quickly learned that motherhood is as hard as it is wonderful though. Having a first born with colic and sleep issues made motherhood feel nothing like I dreamed it would be. The next two years were filled with sleepless nights, celebrating baby milestones, balancing working part-time with motherhood responsibilities, and pretending like I totally had this whole parenting thing under control.

By 27, I was pregnant with Grayson and Sophia was finally starting to come around to the idea of sleep. Life felt settled. Sophia was blossoming into a happy, playful, energetic little toddler who was actually quite delightful to be around (as opposed to her baby days). I had taken on a new part-time child abuse prevention supervisor role at Children's that was I incredibly excited to explore and grow in. I felt ready, even excited, to tackle the newborn stage again with baby #2.

Grayson arrived in August 2013. I truly enjoyed the first three weeks of his life and thought that I finally lucked out with a dream baby like everyone else I knew. Then colic set in again. We discovered he had a cow's milk protein allergy. He never once took a bottle. He wanted to be held or rocked or strapped to my chest all day. Meanwhile, that energetic toddler I mentioned, she needed to be potty trained, and chased around the park, and fed and all that other stuff to keep her alive. Motherhood...it sort of felt like an Olympic sport during that time.

By the time I turned 28 I was a full-time stay-at-home mom with an infant and a toddler. Fast forward two years and I'm still in that place, only with a toddler and a preschooler. People keep telling me I'll miss these days but I'm not totally convinced of that.

My twenties were filled with so much growth, adventure, and special once-in-a-lifetime moments. My twenties will definitely be hard to top. I have a feeling, though, that the real adventure begins in my thirties. And I am so eager to see where they take me.