Yesterday marked the anniversary of thirty three years of - ME!! A friend told me this was the age where Christ was reborn and came back as a zombie and killed all the dinosaurs, or something. So far my water into wine skills are lacking. Sad face.
As a pre-birthday present to myself (thank you self) I took a personal day to go to a symposium at Longwood Gardens in PA. Longwood is an absolutely amazing estate and public gardens established by Pierce duPont (more history, etc here) they have concerts, tours, kid's activities, etc. Oh, and the Christmas displays ...
The symposium was called "Today's Horticulture" and touched on everything from sustainable landscape design, container gardening, entomology, water resources management, and native planting vs. non-native. And in between these sessions that were so informative and interesting, I got to wander through the gardens and shop the plant sale. The only downside was the majority of people there have degrees in plant science or are professionals - a lot went over my head. So, it's officially time to figure out this whole getting-my-degree thing. I have never wanted anything quite like I've wanted this, but I also refuse to give up any time I have with my girls. So it will take me a loooong time, because I will only, realistically, be able to take 1 or 2 classes per semester. I have to start with the hard (for me) classes, math and chemistry, and I will probably cry and swear and throw things but I WILL get through them, because without chemistry none of the soil or plant science will make sense.
And while doing this I will also have to work and take care of a house and husband and two kids, and a dog and a cat and two rats; and volunteer at Mooch's school and take care of the garden and cook every night, etc. Completely do-able, right??
Oh yeah, resolutions. Because this post is about me being OLD.
1. Practice being still and present, at least once a day. My degree won't matter much without my sanity.
2. Make peace, completely, with my body. Yes my belly is pooch-y from two babies and my boobs just aren't what they used to be. Yes, stretch marks happen. But at 33 I can run 3 miles in under 28 minutes and tear up a spin class. These things I couldn't do 10 years ago. Mooch said to me the other day, "Mama you're not too fat and not too skinny, you're just right"
3. Plan more. I suck at planning. I blamed this on the Mister the other night (I can't completely remember my reasoning here, honestly - he handed me a piece of dark chocolate and kept watching the Military Channel) but I need to carve out my own space in our home to set up as Mama HQ and plot all this junk out.
3 things, plus all that other junk. Bring it, 33.