Half a Year Wiser?

Omigod you guys, yesterday was my 30-and-a-half birthday so thanks for all the well-wishes! Kidding. No one even acknowledged it. Sad face. But seriously, I can't believe that I have been thirty for six months now. I still cringe when I tell people how old I am. That is, if I actually tell them my real age. I usually like to joke around/lie and say that I am 26 when people ask me. NBD, right? I mean, I still don't feel like I am 30. I just re-read my "Dirty Thirty" birthday blog that I wrote six months ago and it was cool to see where my head was at then. One huge plus of writing this blog is going back to the archives and read stuff I wrote months ago and see what and how I was feeling. And you know what, I am still feeling some of that stuff that I was on my birthday. I for sure don't feel like I am old and thirty. (And I don't think I look like it either!!)

Memories...

I also went back and re-read a post I wrote in October about my fear of turning 30 and all the things that still would or would not be acceptable when I actually turned the ripe old age of 30. I just looked it over again and kind of laughed to myself because not much has changed. And I don't care. There isn't a certain way a 30-year-old should act and I am going to do me. And yesterday I did just that. And that means, lots of tears.

The Famous "Wall of Fame" or "Shrine to Myself"

My parents are re-doing the bathrooms in our house in Chicago. They are also adding a walk-in closet to the master bedroom which means they are building into my bedroom to make room for the extra space needed. They are also repainting my bedroom after that. This means I had to take everything off my walls. Something I haven't done in years. I love walking in my bedroom at home and being transformed into my old self. My room is so "me." It has all my trophies and medals (which my family calls my "Wall of Fame" or my "Shrine to Myself") and all my team pictures and awards over the years. Or well, ever. It also holds a lot of chotchkies I have collected or made over the years. It has so much history. And I love it. Once again, its so "me." But it all had to come down.

Because of the construction, my mom made me take it all down and pack it into boxes. I know many people have had to do this before (and don't even have the luxury of coming home to their childhood homes anymore) but this was very traumatic for me.  This is years and years of history and memories that I had to take down and just pack up. I tried to be mature and handle this well. And I actually maintained composure for a little while. I laughed as I packed up my trolls. And my beanie babies. I sat down and smiled as I went through some old photo albums. And yearbooks. I am glad I saved so many things. But now they will be hidden away in boxes. Boo. This clearly was very upsetting to me. So I cried. I wasn't going to hold it in anymore. My room will never be the same when I come home. It will no longer be the room I grew up in and this is sad to me. So what if I am 30 (and a half)? This is MY bedroom and its supposed to remain exactly the same as it was 10 or 15 years ago. And its never supposed to change. Ever.

I know I am kind of being a big baby about this, but besides me losing a huge piece of my childhood, I can't also help but think that when I bring Mr. Right home one day, he will NOT be able to see the bedroom that I grew up in. He will not get a glimpse of my childhood. And that is a huge part of who I am today. And that's upsetting. I am proud of all my past accomplishments and they have shaped me into the proud 30-and-a-half-year-old woman writing before you today. I know I need to grow up and move on, but it's way easier said then done because I am a very sentimental person. I don't know how I will react when I walk into my room when I come home the next time, and I cannot guarantee it will not include tears again, but I will try. I know I don't live here anymore and I am happy my parents are doing this for themselves because they deserve it. (Kitchen next??) So what I am just going to keep telling myself, is one day, when I move back home with my own family and buy this house from my parents so my kids can grow up in it, I will have a nicer master bedroom than my parents did when they lived here. I had a great childhood in this house and I can only hope my children have something as great as I did. So as my 30-and-a-half birthday has now come and gone, I was able to look back at a lot of old, fun times and smile and cry. I guess that's all one can really ask for as they grow up.