25 is better than 15, 35 is better than 25

I was trying to think back to age 5. I have a handful of memories, but one sticks out the most. I remember painting a self-portrait in my kindergarten class and my teacher walking up behind me. Full of excitement and animation she oooed and aaahhhed over it. I don’t remember her exact words, but I remember how she made me feel. That day I believed I was an artist. 5 was a good year.

Next, I jumped 10 years to see what I remember about being 15. I remember A LOT about 15. I remember the cute boy I nicknamed “Prep Boy” that was always at his locker outside my Oklahoma history class. I remember driver’s ed and the first time my dad took me on a road with other cars. 15 was a rad year.

Ten years later, I was 25 and a brand new mom. I remember more about 15 than I do 25…probably due to lack of sleep and being a bit in shock by it all. 25 was an amazing year, an absolutely amazing year – so much better than 5 & 15!

Well, yesterday I turned 35. If 5 was good, 15 rad, 25 amazing – 35 is all those things and more. I woke up to cards and surprises all over the house. I love getting older.

We celebrated my way – just staying at home, eating my favorite meals that I didn’t cook and doing projects.

The kids were in art supplies all day and Chris hung some old cabinets in our new laundry room. I hung a planter. It made me ridiculously happy.

Sometimes people ask me the question, “What do you hope for in 10 years?”

I can never answer that question.

As a 15 year old, I would have never even known to dream for what 25 ended up looking like for me. My 15 year old mind could not comprehend the goodness of what 25 would hold for me. At 15 I had never heard of email…

As a new mom at 25, I could have not imagined I would be given 5 amazing kids over the next 10 years. I had no way of dreaming that photography and blogging would enter my life or that I would teach online. At 25 I had never heard the term “blogger”…

At 35, I don’t have big specific dreams for the next 10 years. I dream loosely because my dreams tend to be too small – even when they feel HUGE to me. I want to keep dancing with Jesus and I have a feeling my 35 year old mind cannot conceive or even begin to dream up the goodness of 45….