31

In my 30s. It’s strange to think that in a little over a week that will be me. Turning 30 was a breeze, but 31 feels like instead of lifting my foot onto the next step stone of life, I’m being picked up and tossed onto a level infinitely higher than the previous one. It’s not scary or daunting, just…different. But with every year that comes I accept it which helps me to own it which allows me to love it. So in that light I have spent a bit of time happily realizing the changes that have occurred in my personality, judgment and all around attitude about life in the last decade. I can fondly remember back ten years ago to my 21st birthday. Now THAT was a fun night. Little too much fun as it ended with my good friend’s brand new Jetta getting coated inside and out with my vomit and me getting dropped off at my apartment before midnight for my roommate to come home to 3 hours later and find me half-naked in the hallway sleeping the various cocktails off. Good times.

I’ve changed quite a bit since then and as I look at how my tastes have changed, here are the standouts:

1. I love Sunset magazine.
It’s the only periodical that I subscribe too. Occasionally I’ll pick up an issue of In Style or People, but every time I do I realize that it’s the same ideas, same fashion tips, same makeup on the same hairstyle on the same girl who’s doing the same role in the same movie – it’s all surface. But Sunset caters to me; it has smart home decorating ideas, instructions for planting vegetable and flower gardens, great restaurant tips and perfect spots to go for a weekend getaway here in the northwest. It’s a glossy look at my life: eating, exploring the beautiful area we live in and making my house a home.
2. I like watching the news and drinking a cup of coffee in the morning.
Not having TV growing up wasn’t a bad thing because when we vacationed at my moms parents’ home in Manteca, California every summer it was cartoons all day for my siblings and I. I remember racing to get up earlier than Jenny and Kelley because that way I’d be in charge of the remote. That is until my parents and grandparents got up because then they took over the living room TV to watch the news. Blech. I could not understand how they could stomach something so incredibly boring. Fast forward 20 years and I love it. As far as the coffee goes, if you’re a parent it goes without saying. It’s not a trend or an accessory, it’s vital.
3. I’m not as picky about my music.
This is kind of true. About 7 years ago when tons of independent bands and labels started coming on the scene and hipsters started dictating what music was cool or not I remember feeling uncomfortable. I’ve always had a spot in my heart for unpretentious lyrics, funky grooves and singers that sing with the most overused word in music nowadays – soul. As more and more bands came on the scene it became too hard to keep up. How was I supposed to listen to every new artist and if I couldn’t, whose opinion could I trust? Scratch all that now. Pop radio still has a song that’ll catch my attention now and then, but in my heart I’m still a fan of the older stuff. Aretha, James Taylor or Stevie Wonder are my choices of Pandora stations. That type of music just hooks me. Same with country (which 10 years ago would have made me vomit in my platform pumps). I love country music with its twangy, heart-felt, repetitious ideas of down home, back woods, small town type of living & loving.
4. Speaking of tastes changing…
I now prefer mustard instead of mayo. Almonds and walnuts in desserts don’t bother me like they used to. Veggies that have squishy textures (couldn’t look at them 10 years ago) like squash, zucchini and avocado are now a staple in my diet. I guess you could say my palette has become a bit more mature, although if you ask me if a wine varietal has a smoky vs. fruity aftertaste my answer might as well come from my butt. No clue.
5. But the biggest change is…
My life isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to my husband and kids. I’m not stating that in an upset, woe-is-me, I’m nothing but a stay-at-home mom kind of way and I’m also not saying it in a defensive manner to validate my choice to be at home with my kids to my friends that have killer careers and the desire to work outside of their house. It’s just the plain, simple truth. I don’t spend afternoons in coffee shops browsing the internet, reading a book or listening to music. I don’t put on adorable heels and sparkly mini-dresses for a weekly girls night out. I say “no” to a lot of music opportunities, get togethers with friends, trips with family and even activities with other kids involved because all of those things just don’t work with my life as it is now. I get to watch and hold two living, breathing pieces of my heart on a daily basis and I get to maintain a house that when my husband comes home, makes him feel a sense of ease and relaxation as soon as he sets foot into the door. It’s not all about me anymore, but it brings me joy.

So with all that said there are still things that remain a part of me from my 20s. I still get my club dance on and look ridiculous, but now I have an audience of two very wide-eyed, smiling kids watching me wondering why mom is acting crazy. My righteous temper that used to get me speeding tickets and middle finger salutes from other drivers still rears it’s ugly head, but the only person who can really bring it out of me is my man. And he knows to do that sparingly. I still like to think of myself as unique from my peers, even though Facebook & Pinterest have shown me that I’m actually very similar to them. We all like to drink wine, bake decadent desserts and only eat one piece, work out that post baby body to a skinnier version of our 20-something self, wear scarves regardless of the season, decorate our kids’ rooms, shabby chic the shiz out of our homes and fantasize about trips with our hubbies to Greece, Italy & Fiji.

I love the carefree joy that came with my 20s, but I am thoroughly enjoying the thoughtful ease that has taken over in these recent years. That girl recovering from her first hangover on January 20, 2002 is still here, she just knows now not to mix her alcohols.

Math is a liar

It's been awhile. That would be because when you have one child and you add another child to the mix it actually adds up to more than two total children. It's more like seven. You're feeding one and then dressing the other and then changing the one's diaper and then soothing the next and then getting the one a treat while burping the other and then picking out clothes for the first while balancing the other on your hip as you pick up the toys of the one as your pull the dangerous object (fork, laundry detergent, toilet plunger) out of the crusty grip of the other - all the while keeping the laundry from resembling an actual mountain (that elder baby would like to either a. climb or b. pick apart and scatter throughout the house), the dishes from acquiring permanent levels of crust from sitting in the sink, the floor from becoming a minefield for breaking your back with wheeled toys and actual banana peels and accomplishing the basics of brushing your teeth (before 3 p.m.), getting dressed in something other than sweats and keeping your frig and pantry stocked with something other than canned beans and ketchup (which, actually, you can combine and it's a slightly less sweet version of baked beans).

Oh, and by the by, you're to do all of this on an average of 3 hours of sleep.

But guess how amazingly wonderful it is? I can't even put into words how much love I have for my beautiful babies, my hard working husband or this crazy exhausting life that we have going on right now. When you realize how blessed you are, it makes 2 a.m. feedings followed by the occasional 4 a.m. feeding, spit up stains on your favorite shirt, jeans that pinch your stomach so hard and still don't look quite right but you wear them anyway because you threw out all your maternity clothes, baby poop on the changing table cover you just washed, picking toilet paper off of the unspooled roll on the ground, under eye circles that defy even the thickest makeup, hours and sometimes days of saying sentences that rhyme, stomach "muscles" that look like an inverted backbone and toys with sing-song voices that make the munchkins from "Wizard of Oz" sound like a black gospel choir completely tolerable, even nice. Even precious...except for those d&*# toys that I literally want to throw into a freaking canyon. Although that wouldn't work cause then the sounds would just echo off the walls making the world come to an end. :)

Maui

Best taste of the islands: It’s a tie between the sliced pineapple served with a cinnamon sour cream sauce at The Plantation House for brunch and the shaved ice from Local Boys. The latter was juiced up with three flavors of my choice, and my second time there I chose tiger’s blood, blue vanilla and cherry made fully complete with a scoop of vanilla ice cream under the ice and a generous helping of this sweet cream stuff poured on top. Unreal. And yes, both of these tasty treats were better than my filet from Ruth’s Chris on our girls night out.

Best moment of “I’m so happy you’re my friend”: A chat in the bathroom about the difficulties of motherhood that ended up with me getting teary and Shayna coming over and giving me one of those genuine hugs where you don’t feel like you have to let go right away.

Best purchase: My new sunglasses that looked so cute on Erin that I had to get them. And she was inspired to get hers cause they looked so good on Shayna. We all live in different states so it’s totally ok to be triplets.

Best unexpected treat: How good I slept the first night there. Our room didn’t have AC so we slept with the sliding door open and the ceiling fan on and the breeze combined with the sound of ocean waves was incredibly relaxing. The perfect temperature. So perfect that I snored to the point of depleting the night of sleep for my poor husband. Sorry, babe.

Best regular sighting: A tie between flowers that look so beautiful it should be illegal to pick them and my husband with his super tan skin in his daily uniform of shorts, a tank, flip flops and a hat. Yum.

What I’ll check out the next time I go back: That gazebo restaurant whose line was waaaaaay too long for us to wait with the kiddos, all the lovely places in and around Kihei that my brother and sister-in-law told me about, and ocean water deeper than 3 feet…although that last one isn’t a definite.

A hot chocolate of a day

One of my favorite things in this world is hot chocolate. It’s warm, rich, decadent - delicious. And arguably the best part about drinking hot chocolate is the dollop of cool whipped cream that seeps into the top layer of the drink and cools it just enough to make it palatable. Plus, those first several sips are just a little bit richer, creamier and sweeter, and I love the juxtaposition of temperatures. Today, my day was like this very combo. It started off burn-your-mouth hot, but was capped with a spoonful of cool, calm sweetness that made the whole thing a perfect balance.

First off, this morning started with a monumental meltdown, and while I should be referring to Israel, it's actually both thumbs pointed at this gal. Last night a door-to-door salesman stopped by to showcase this Kirby cleaning system and since we were on our way out the door, I said no, but yes to him coming over this morning at 11:00 to give his schpeal. After shutting the door, Ryan poked his head out of the bedroom and gave a curt and firm speech on how I was not going to buy anything that the man was offering and not only that, I wasn't even allowed to be home when he came by because I wouldn't be able to say no (Which, by the way, whatever! I have some sales resistance…not a lot, but some). So, this morning, as the 11:00 hour was approaching, I was trying to take off so Izzy and I could run some errands. It was getting near his nap time, so he was fussy, and after I had loaded up his lunch, diapers, an extra set of clothes, wipes, my water bottle, phone and chapstick, we just had one more thing to find - his binky.

Now, I know that currently in my house there are at least 18 binkies. However, this particular morning, none, and I repeat, NONE were making themselves known. Holding Izzy on my hip and my very heavy and full diaper bag over my shoulder I looked around the kitchen...none, the living room...nope, our bedroom (where he had 1 in his mouth that morning)...nope, our bathroom (where he had 1 maybe 10 minutes earlier)...gone - with my arm around him falling asleep and my other arm getting the circulation cut off by my 83 pound diaper bag, I decided to try the car. None. Zero, zip, zilch, not one freaking bink in the entire car. I had put Israel in his car seat, which he immediately detested because he's tired and BINK-LESS, and rifled through (aka threw out everything inside) the console and side pockets. Izzy's crying had now reached screaming volume, my forehead was sweating and I'm pretty sure my if my mom heard the words coming out of my mouth, I'd have to wash it out with soap. Slamming the doors shut, I give one final attempt in the house and ran upstairs to Israel's crib where I knew, I KNEW, there was a binkie shoved in the far side. The far side, which being almost 6 months pregnant is virtually impossible to reach because the bars are too high and the crib is too wide, but my anger and energy allowed me to have super-human reach and I snagged the stupid orange and clear plastic device, raced back downstairs to the car and popped the bink in Israel's mouth. As I pulled out of the driveway, I felt slightly ashamed. I had completely lost control of my temper in front of my toddler and I think it scared him. As the day progressed, the intensity of the morning faded, but I still felt just...stressed.

And then tonight happened. Once a month I get together for dinner with two of my friends who live in the Medford area. Tonight it was dinner at Bambu, so when Israel woke up from his second nap, I had about 15 minutes to kill before I needed to leave in order to make it on time, but rather than dawdle, I left, drove the speed limit, turned on my music, cracked my windows and chilled. Dinner was delicious, conversation was authentic and precious, and then on my drive home, it all clicked. I had picked up a hot chocolate (See that? Full circle!) from a coffee stand, the sun had set but it wasn't dark yet, so outside had that magic hour light, the windows were down so there was breeze blowing my hair around, and the perfect, perfect song came on: John Mayer's "Heartbreak Warfare". There's something about the opening bars of that song, it's the exact soundtrack a stream of oncoming headlights needs.

In that moment, I realized how long it had been since I'd had such a "moment". I've always loved to drive, and in my 20's I did a lot of it. Living in Medford, working in Ashland, going to church at Applegate and having family in Grants Pass, I was driving around a lot, having hours of time spent exactly like this, with your mind wandering and just living in this moment of sensory delight. Smell, taste, touch, sound and sight. It's so simple, but being a mom and a wife and having my life become a whirlwind of pleasing others, it's hard to pull back and give yourself a minute. Needless to say, the rest of my drive home was just dreamy, and it made me realize how simple and easy it is for me to get my mind settled. All it takes is a little music and a drive. Do I love thinking about my husband and taking care of my baby - absolutely. But I love me too, and in order to prevent future meltdowns (Completely? Never.) or appease them after they occur, it'll be nice to take half an hour, cruise around and think about absolutely nothing. Ryan and Izzy can come along next time if they want...as long as they're completely quiet :)

The perfect makeup. Seriously.

You know those makeup ads in magazines where the girls face looks so smooth it's practically poreless? Well, that's not me. I've never had great skin. Ever since I was a teenager I've had these little bumps that look like a mild rash all across my cheeks and a little bit on my forehead. Once I hit my 20's and had visited every dermatologist, aestitician, and had tried pretty much every skin-clearing product available with none of them working, I accepted it for what it was and tried to focus on my better features.

Now, I loooove me some make-up. Seriously, I can be in the cosmetics section of Macy's or Target for at least an hour. And I've run the gamut of products and have found a lot that I love, but my recent purchases proved to be the PERFECT trifecta of products for my skin.

About a month ago I was at the Benefit counter browsing and the gal mentioned they have a tinted moisturizer that she really likes and that I might enjoy. Usually their sales pitches go in one ear and out the other, but I'd been thinking of trying a TM and why not this one? That same trip I also purchased a bottle of their highlighter, and then shimmied over to Target and picked up a mineral powder I read about in a magazine.

Once I got back home, it was like the theme from Captain Planet - "when your powers combine..." - seriously, incredible. My skin looked really smooth, perfectly toned and even, and it was seriously glowing. Not glittery or sparkly, but dewy and yummy. Those are all adjectives that have NEVER described my face, so elated doesn't begin to explain how happy I was. I almost didn't trust it, but the next day, I used them all again and voila!! Masterpiece. So, it is with a happy heart, that I tell you those exact products and colors because if you're anything like me (aka makeup slut), you can always use a few new products now and then.

Tinted moisturizer: Benefit YouRebel Lite
Mineral powder: Maybelline Mineral Power Illuminator in Peach
Highlighter: Benefit High Beam