Goodbye to my roaring 20s

(This is how I began my 30s)

My roaring 20s began pretty memorably. Or, not so memorably, depending on how you look at it. Cory Morrow happened to be playing at Kappa Sig that night, as it was Parents' Weekend at Washington and Lee. I can't say for sure, but I believe I got on stage when they played Happy Birthday to me. It's all a bit of a haze. As you can see, it was quite a good time. Roar.

Regardless of my hazy memory, I have a souvenir. A set list from the concert, which has "Happy birthday to Lisa" scrawled across the bottom. One of my guy friends sweetly pulled it off the stage and saved it for me. I had been wearing his straw cowboy hat, and I think I got it signed for him, because Cory and I had a chat after. I have photographic evidence that it happened, the memory is a little less clear. Anyway, the guy, my friend, is the guy who made me dinner tonight for my 30th birthday.

He also left work at lunch, came to the house, collected the baby, who had just peed and then puked all over me, and said, "go shopping." We were supposed to meet him for lunch for the baby handoff, but well, baby wasn't aware it was my birthday. It was a monumental birthday turnaround. I love him.

My 20s were a mixed bag of highs and lows, the stuff of life - graduating college, getting smacked in the face - repeatedly, it seemed - by an intense real world job. Incredible, once in a lifetime trips to Scotland, backpacking Europe, China for the Olympics. Saying goodbye to my Nana and Papaw. Our amazing experience living abroad in London. The sudden and devastating loss of my brother, Andrew. The joyous birth of our first baby. We did a good amount of living before we settled into our 30s, a decade which I can safely say will most likely be defined by the highs and lows of parenthood.

My 29th year began most memorably, with an ultrasound on my birthday, where we nervously watched as her tiny heartbeat flickered before us, her little gummy bear sized-self appearing on the screen for the first time. I am not sure I really comprehended the magnitude of seeing our sweet girl for the first time, and the ways our lives would change, the way our hearts would change. How next year, our little gummy bear would have oatmeal dripping down her chin and would be shooting me a great big "I just spit up on your only jeans that fit" smile. One year feels like a lifetime ago, but it was the beginning of something big. We shared our joy with my family at my birthday dinner that evening, and his family that weekend. Today, I share it with my husband and our most precious gift.