Reality Isn't So Bad

It's happened-- full-fledged panic about turning the Big 3-0.

You know what, though? It's not really getting older that bugs me, but it's where I thought I'd be in my life by now that does. There are a bunch of things I think I'm "supposed" to have done by now, and I'm lagging behind a bit.

Here's a picture of me from a few birthdays back-- I think this was the year I turned 27. I love this picture.

Paul (one of the besties) had just taken me out to dinner and brought me back to the family farm for a surprise party that wasn't really a surprise, but it was still so fun. That's Jeff's head to my (your) right. He took me home that night. Just after he left, I got my annual birthday phone call from Sean and his wife. I'd had a pedicure that day, and I'd eaten at Sweet Tomatoes. That night, Blair sang karaoke (The Backstreet Boys, as I recall) and I met a boy who'd sweep away my summer. Look at how tan I was! Look at my hair. Back then, I still wore a watch because I didn't care that it wasn't elegant. This is one of those pictures I would hope captures the way people think of me.
And here's another picture I love: a recent one of my precious little nieces in their Easter clothes.

They look pretty angelic, huh? Or how about this one of Zoey, wearing a traditional Polish outfit: When I bought that little dress in Krakow so many years ago, I imagined putting my own child in it. But Zoey and Paizlee are about as close as you can get, so it's fitting and suits my purposes just fine. Zozobra looks so sweet. But you know what else I love?
I'm pretty stoked this kid is willing to ham it up for the camera and put on a fake mustache. I treasure this little bit of reality just as much as the posed pics.

Also, here's a video of Paizlee. You'll probably look at it and think, "So what's the big deal?" But she's always congested and sounds like it. This video is so classically her. She and Z put their hands on your face and will tell you, "Say Chano!" What does this mean? Oh, nothing in particular, but it cracks them up. So I like it. P also likes to squeeze people's noses. When she does it, she says, "Haunt, Haunt" (her variation on honk, honk, so far as I can tell). I don't know where the kids get this stuff, but I'm happy they do. They're so wild (and intimidating-- I have to take care of them by myself this week, and I don't know how I'm gonna manage), but I'll take them over a posed Ralph Lauren ad any day.

I guess it's OK we use media to give us a point of reference or some inspiration for what we want our lives to be like, as long as we don't let it control us. I can't let the world tell me where I should be by now-- how much education I should have, where I should have traveled (and where and why I shouldn't have), what my wedding (according to statistics, should have happened several years ago) ought to look like, and what material possessions should clutter my home. But I guess it doesn't hurt to hear some suggestions here and there.

I saw this picture in Selina Lake and Joanna Simmons' "Bazaar Style." I hope I'm not causing a copyright ruckus for putting it here. The photo is by Debi Treloar, and it inspired me to no end. The one I made wasn't nearly as fancy, I'd wager, but it's real... a month of work real. Sitting on my daybed real. Broke six sewing matching needles real. If you were to see it up close, you'd notice that it doesn't begin to compare with the original. But I still love it.

Likewise, I don't know how I measure up to where I was three years ago, but I'm kickin, anyway. Today, I'm real.