This weekend my mom got her first car at the young age of 57. It was a gift to her from my dad. A testament of his love.

My parents are not flashy people. They’re far from it, actually. They live in a humble little house in a humble little city. They don’t go out to dinner, and they’ve been wearing the same clothes for ages. My dad drives a trusty (and maybe a bit rusty) old SUV to work each day while my mom stays home and tends to the house.

Did I mention that they’re still madly in love? As in, my dad has written a love note to my mom each day of their 36-year marriage. As in, my mom still holds on to every single word he says.

Back to the car, though.

While we were growing up, my dad got it in his mind that he had to buy each of his children --- my sister, brother and me --- a new car for high school graduation. We needed something nice and reliable as we embarked on the next leg of our journey: college. It was just like my dad to insist on this. He always wanted us to have the nicest of things and made sure that we did. Did I mention that he worked two jobs my entire childhood so that he could afford to do this?

To make sure they were able to afford to buy us new cars, my dad drove the same van for nearly 15 years. When the van fell apart, he bought an old SUV. My mom was able to drive it when she needed it, but it was my dad's car, and she was OK with that. She would occasionally borrow our cars when we were home, which wasn’t often. Still, she was OK with all of it.

This isn’t a story about cars. No, it’s far more than that. It’s the story of a woman, who was selfless enough to go without so that her children wouldn’t have to. It’s the story of a man that is always looking for a way to show his wife that he loves her. It’s the story of selflessness. It’s the story of patience. It's the story of good people getting what they deserve.

This is why, when my mom called on Sunday to tell me she finally had a car of her own, I cried.

 

(For some reason, this was perhaps one of the most emotional things I've ever written. I realize it's unlike anything else I've ever shared, but it was a story I had to tell.)

 

As much as I tried to play it off like it was no big deal, turning 30 was a struggle for me. I jokingly pointed out the gray hairs starting to appear at my hairline and questioned if smile lines were really from smiling or just old age, but I did have a hard time with it.
    When you reach a milestone age, you can’t help but look back and reflect on all that you have and haven’t accomplished. And you can’t help but not feel completely satisfied. At first thought, 30 years is a substantial amount of time on this planet, enough time to do something of substance. But really, I don’t feel like I truly got a grasp on who I am until at least 25, and I still don’t fully know what I want from life. So really, I now feel like life really begins at 30. Once I accepted that, I embraced getting older and am looking forward to what the future brings.

Books are my passion. My mom, also a book lover, couldn’t wait to teach me how to read. So, at age 3, I was reading Dr. Seuss books to her. My siblings weren’t readers, so we bonded over our love of books, and she took every chance she had to spoil me with them.

                I’ve only come to love reading more with age. My weekly trips to the library are what I look forward to most. Leaving the library, a stack of books in hand, I feel like I have a world of possiblities before me.

                Here’s my biggest regret: I don’t keep track of what I read. In fact, I checked the same book out of the library three times this year. About halfway through the first chapter, I realized I had read this book once or twice before. I’ve signed up for Goodreads, but always forget to log in to mark off my recent read.

                Still, one book has stuck with me throughout the entire year: The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown. I had read I Thought It Was Just Me, but I didn’t connect with it nearly as much as The Gifts of Imperfection. I highlighted pretty much the entire book and often found myself wanting to high-give the book. It’s just … perfect. It was exactly the book I needed to read at the time I read it. It was truly a gift to me, which is exactly what I think a good book should be.

                For 2012, however, I’ve decided to make a commitment to GoodReads. Even if I don’t review books, I want to at least be able to look back at the books I’ve read and loved. Won’t you join me?

Who could forget the infamous friendship bracelets/buddy bands conflict?

I’m not the best at making new friends. My shyness is often misinterpreted. I’ve always admired people who can start up a conversation with anyone about anything. I think my problem is that I think too much. I worry that I’ll say the wrong thing, and so I don’t say anything at all. For years I’ve watched Kevin make friend after friend, wondering how he does it. I’ve come to the conclusion that he doesn’t give it much thought, and so his relationships are easy from the start.

            In 2011, I know I met new people here and there. What I find more significant though is that I finally reached out and truly “met” some of my acquaintances. By this, I mean that I turned them into friends. Perhaps one of the strongest friendships I grew this year came as the result of finding common ground – crafting. The girlfriend of a friend of Kevin’s and I both realized we had the same passion, and just like that a friendship was born.

            It’s been the same with a few other people… people I would see at friends’ houses or Kevin’s work events. I learned that if you just start talking … talking about anything … that the people you are meant to be friends with will start talking back. You just have to break that initial ice.

 For this year's Reverb, I'm using Kaileen Elise's prompts. Feel free to use them, or create your own!

Have you seen a happier group of folks? And does anyone else miss my long hair as much as I do?

Where did 2011 begin? After waiting until the absolute last minute to decide how to celebrate New Year’s Eve, we decided to throw a party with our friends/neighbors. All of it was thrown together in a couple of days, so naturally the planner in me was nervous. What if everyone else already had plans? What if no one else shows up? What if the food doesn’t reflect an overall theme? (Have I mentioned that it’s exhausting being me?)

The night of the party came, and to be honest, not very many people did show up. (Apparently New Year’s is a holiday you plan ahead for. Who knew?) But, one by one, our closest friends arrived, as did those who would later become closet friends. Of course they didn’t make plans. They all knew we’d be spending it together. We donned ridiculous party hats, flower leis, drank champagne, and rang in the new year.  It was by far the most memorable New Year’s Eve to date.

I realize now that it was that particular night that set the stage for the rest of the year. So much of 2011 was about friendship. It was the year that I allowed myself to open up to others and connect with them. It was the year that our group of friends became a true family.

As for New Year's this year? There's no question who I'll be spending it with.

 

For this year's Reverb, I'm using Kaileen Elise's prompts. Feel free to use them, or create your own!

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And just like that, I’m 30.

It’s funny. There was something in me that thought perhaps I’d feel differently when the calendar turned to November 27th. The anticipation I was feeling reminded me a lot of that jump from 12 to 13. Back then, I didn’t awake to find myself feeling like a real-deal teenager, and this year I didn’t wake up feeling how I had hoped: grown up, or at least slightly more so. Instead, I felt no different than I did when I went to sleep.

30. It seems like such an important age. I spent weeks counting down to it and planning my goals for the coming year. So many expectations were placed on this single age. “This is my year!” I repeatedly told myself. “Thirty’s going to be my greatest age yet!” I started writing my life list, started making plans. And now here I am, just two days after my birthday, and I’m feeling let down. Thirty isn’t great yet! It’s just like any other age, just with more gray hair. Clearly I could have made an effort to cross a few things off my life list during the two hours of free time I've had.

I’m ridiculous. I know.

One of my worst habits is not giving myself enough credit for pretty much anything I do. But it’s time for me to honestly tell myself, “You’ve come a long way, kid.” Despite the things I’ve done that I’m not proud of, I’ve allowed myself to grow exponentially and have hopefully given myself the humility to know that there is still a lot of growing to do. The person I am today is a long way from who I used to be, but it's still far from who I’d like to become.

One of the biggest things I need to teach myself in the coming years, life list or not, is acceptance … acceptance for life as it is, for people as they are, and for who I am.

(Stay tuned for a post dedicated to my Nerdy Thirty party, including pictures of the outfits, the decorations, and the awesome invites!)

After finishing organizing my creative space last week, I finally had time (and room) to sit down and do some painting. I've always loved to paint and use a lot of it in my work, coupled with stamping, paper and other elements. I tend to work in a lot of layers, but get really impatient and wind up mixing and muddying paint colors in my rush. This time I worked differently. I knew I wanted to use only paint and I knew I wanted to slown down and be mindful of my work. I put down a color and let it thoroughly dry. Then I added another, and another. It was a really gratifiying experience, and though I always feel extremely vulnerable sharing my work, I really like the outcome. I have another larger canvas in the works using the same process, and though I can't wait to finish it, I will be taking my time and finishing it when it feels right. I'll be working on a series like this in hopes of showing them on the walls of Kevin's work.