Yep, it’s that time of year again. The sun is out and the temperature is rising. I type this as I sit in my favorite coffee shop, downtown Charleston, SC., devouring a duck confit sandwich and sipping on iced peach tea. I see the glowing sunlight glimmering off the golden steeple of the Tiger Lily Floral shop. The wind is softly blowing and passer-byes are strolling the cobblestone streets in light weight long sleeve shirts in their shorts and shades.
The yoga shop is right across the street and young ladies are coming out slim and trim with sweat dripping from their brows. As I stuff another bite of my sandwich in my mouth, I realize that I’m also right across the street from a place I haven’t ventured into in years. Perhaps a place I should consider before bathing suit season kicks off. But who am I kidding, who has an extra $60 in their pocket for pampering? Ha, I think to myself. When you’re in your dirty thirties, fresh flowers, ample exercise, time in peace and quiet, and and down there grooming are considered luxurious fantasies!
I remember hitting the waves last year on my board for a split second while my husband entertained our children on the sandy shores. It’s really my piece of sanity paddling out there; taking my mind to another place. After the intense swim against the current and pounding waves, I finally reach my fellow surfer friends and relax beyond the breaking point. I take in the sunshine on my skin and rest on my board. Breathing in deeply, I sigh, in awe of God’s creation and truthfully, in awe of this peaceful moment I rarely get to experience.
It wasn’t long before I felt a slight brush against my inner thigh, sending me literally into a freakish gyration when I saw what seemed to be a sea urchin trying to swim up into my lady parts. I’m sure my fellow surrounding surfer buddies thought I was amidst a convulsing seizing episode by my reaction, but I was quick to pull it together. That’s when I noticed the “sea urchin” wasn’t moving, no matter how much I swatted at it. In fact, it wasn’t going anywhere at all because it was attached to me. How embarrassing! Clearly lady part grooming is not a top priority when you are a broke and busy mom of three! Sorry I haven’t seen you in a while Sugar-Vida salon!
Yoga pants have a new purpose these days
Like several moms, yoga pants are certainly apparel I wear on a regular basis. However, the intent for those yoga britches is much different now, than when I was in my young twenties. Yoga pants these days are strictly for comfort when chasing my young-ins; not legit exercise. What I would give to be that young, firm armed, snapper strutting out of that hour long, hot yoga class across the street. Those days are long gone. If I even attempt to take my child to an exercise class, I’m called out within fifteen minutes of my much-needed workout, to deal with a crying child or a code brown situation.
In my thirties, my yoga pants hug my childbearing hips and cover my muffin top just right without being too tight. To all you skinny, sweaty twenty-year-old hot things, your time is coming! For now, I will just fantasize about my twenty-year-old pre-baby body!
Fresh flowers are also a thing of the past. This is so, partly because I barely find time to feed my three children, much less water the plants, but also because we don’t have the extra pennies lying around to afford these gems. Between child care expenses, summer camps, new clothing for those growing bodies, and food to feed those rascals, we are lucky if we can scrounge a few dimes from the kid’s piggy banks!
When my husband and I were first married, I had a sales job that required me to travel quite a bit. I would get burnt out on the travel and cry when I had to leave him. Often, he would surprise me with a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers that would just so happen to be waiting on me when I arrived in yet another hotel room. I remember feeling so loved that he thought of me in the midst of everything else he had going on in his life. In your thirties, with a brood of “children”, if your husband remembers your birthday, you got yourself a keeper!
As I take my last sip of my morning sanity (coffee), and reflect on my surroundings; I think to myself that thirty is not so bad. Despite my woes of being a broke, yoga pants wearing, under groomed, fluffy, thirty something year old mom of three, I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way! The joys of motherhood far outweigh the worldly pressures of being fit, wealthy, and beautiful.
When I wake up in the morning, my children wrap their little arms around me and tell me about their dreams. When I go to bed at night, I say some prayers with my little ones and once again I’m reminded of their love for me and mine for them. Life is a journey much like a roller coaster ride. There are highs, and there are lows, but regardless of where you are on that journey; hang on tight and enjoy the ride! In my dirty thirties, I’m hitting the cruise control button, embracing the woes, and enjoying this beautiful, messy, crazy life that’s all mine. Here’s to being at the corner of hairy, humbled and happy!