THIRTYONEDERFUL

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favorite candid shot from a lunch date with my handsome fiancé a while back

Tomorrow I will celebrate another birthday, and since I always seem to wax nostalgic about these sorts of things, I offer this here assortment of sentiments in honor of my thirtyfirst year.

Oh, 31. You were good to me, but you also kind of kicked my ass. I spent the entirety of these past twelve months not feeling exactly like myself, which is odd. And after all that’s happened, I’m not quite sure what myself is supposed to feel like. Between pregnancy and ongoing postpartum issues, I’ve gotten a little lost in the shuffle of things. But instead of freaking out about this minor identity crisis, I see it as an opportunity to grow, which is how I know I’m not just getting older, but wiser, too. Age is a blessing, thank you very much, and I think I’m starting to get the hang of this whole woman-in-her-thirties thing.

I accomplished a few personal goals that I’d been working toward for what seemed like forever, all three of which were finally ticked off my life’s to-do list on three consecutive days, just like that, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little bit more like a grown-up. Also, this coming September marks the longest tenure I’ve had as a teacher at any one school, and even though my role has shifted a bit – moving from one subject to another – I’m more comfortable and confident in my career than ever. Working in the Waldorf movement inspires every other part of my life, and I’m very lucky to be able to do what I do.

To be brutally honest, nothing has aged me more in all my years than the delivery of one Roux Huckleberry Baker and the subsequent recovery therefrom. I woke up from emergency anesthesia to a body I didn’t recognize, one I’m still learning to claim as mine. I mean, even my broken foot hasn’t fully healed! In short, thirtyone was not kind to my physical self. But if there is one thing I know about bodies, it’s that you get out of a body what you put into a body, and I’m carrying that tidbit very close to my heart as I move into this next year.

Speaking of my heart, thirtyone was a mighty good year for love. The best year. That mister of mine, he’s full of surprises, which is precisely what made his marriage proposal so special. I had absolutely no idea! Seeing a sparkly ring on my finger every day still takes my breath away, I simply could not be any more over the moon madly in love with the man I’m going to marry. He’s one of a kind, and he’s a damn good father to boot. To all three of my kids, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. So, yeah. Our engagement is clearly the highlight of what was, quite simply, a furious and fabulous year of my life.

Any year that brings me a baby is going to be special, that goes without saying. And this baby, well, he’s all kinds of special. His wellbeing has occupied a significant part of my day to day, almost at the expense of my own, and in taking stock of things, it’s clear to me the ways in which I can afford to expand as a person. And if clarity isn’t a sign of maturity, then I give up!

Seriously though, I’m starting to feel like an adult and I like it. Because let’s be honest here, I couldn’t name one song on the radio if you paid me.

HIGH // LOW // THANKFUL

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image via

I should probably just give up the idea of a successful weekly series entirely because, let’s be honest, consistency is not exactly a strength of mine. It’s not even consistently a weakness of mine, that’s how bad I am at being consistent. It should have been no surprise that I missed the second installment of HLT, is what I’m saying. The first is here, in case you missed it.

HIGH: I wore my engagement ring on my middle finger for over six weeks because I couldn’t bear to part with it long enough for it to be sized. I finally shipped it back to its maker earlier this month, and practically hugged the UPS guy when he brought it safely back to me this week. I can’t stop looking at my left hand, that’s how pretty it is.

LOW: We made secret plans for a quick getaway to the desert, involving live music and a fancy hotel, which we were forced to abandon at the last minute. Sadface.

THANKFUL: To the good people of El Indio I say muchos gracias for having fed my family no fewer than five times this past week. I’ve never met a potato taco I didn’t like, but theirs is my favorite. Also, tamales. And buñuelos!

We’ve got company visiting from out-of-state this weekend, which means there is lots of good food and a trip to the beach in my near future, but which also means I’d better do something about my bedroom. Someone please tell me I’m not the only one incapable of keeping a nightstand organized, oy vey iz mir.