I'm 30,000 feet above the ground soaring through the Texas sky on my way to Puerto Vallarta for the week. Michael is reading next to me on my left, and I've got a view of cotton candy clouds to my right. The boys are home with my parents and my heart aches just thinking about being away from them, but I also have an overwhelming sense of freedom when I think about getting some time off. And this time is so needed.
As I sit here my thoughts are scattered; with no babes and no immediate needs to care for, I'm able to let my mind wander. I'm a handful of days from my 31st birthday, and I'm in disbelief of the state of my life. It's not that it's unordinary or even exceptionally good or bad—in fact, it's quite normal; it's just that I never really imagined life at 31. I have a dedicated husband, a marriage worth fighting for, two sweet sons, a comfortable home, a satisfying job, generous parents, loyal friends and a city I love. This past year wasn't easy, but life is good. It's not always great and sometimes, it could be better, but I know too, that it could be a lot worse; and I think for the first time, I'm finally learning to rest in the happiness and dwell on the good. Because it is good. So thanks 30, it's been a hard year, but I'm better off after surviving you, and now I'm ready to take on 31.