From Rags to Riches

It all began at the new church we visited on Sunday. I pulled the guest form from the bulletin, tearing along the perforated line, proceeding to fill it out. Closer to the bottom, the form inquired about our age range. As I scanned the options, my eyes fell on the bracket covering our ages, 30-45. 30-45? 30-45?! Sure, we just recently entered this age range, but Good King Winceslas, when in the world did we get to the point where we qualified for an age category shared with people in their 40's? No offense to all of you people in your 40's or beyond that even. I leaned over and tapped the hubs on the leg showing him the form where I had checked the doomed 'age' box. He looked up and said "Yeah, it's true." 30-45. Blech. What a nasty after taste.

My reason for bringing this up, aside from torturing myself, is that it got me thinking about the fact that although it's unfortunate that I'm now in my thirties, I feel like I've only just begun living. In my early twenties, I was an emotional wreck, silly, irresponsible, and probably a little too carefree. I wasn't serious about much other than college and I thought that I had all the time in the world. Now, I'm stable, practical, responsible, carefree without even the slightest hint of wrecklessness, serious when necessary, and carrying with me a healthy dose of reality in the fact that life is incredibly short and that every moment must be cherished. In all honesty, without taking into consideration my sheer disgust in qualifying for the age range of 30-45 and actually seeing it on paper, I breathe a sigh of relief in the comfort that I am where I am today and not, in fact, back in my twenties, lost and alone.


This brings me to the inspiration for this post. Last night, the hubs looked a little down. When I asked him what was wrong he said something to the effect of, "I wish I made more money and was able to do more for you guys." Us guys meaning me and the munchkins. I tried to explain to him that we don't need more money--we're happy. Yes, we are a single-income family with three kids, but we're happy. Sure, we can't be frivolous with our finances; we can't always go out to dinner or do expensive things and when I go grocery shopping it's only after mapping out the trip with meal plans and coupons in hand, but we're happy! I assured him that he could stop worrying because this happiness is all that we need.

In the transition from my twenties to my thirties, I feel as though I have gone from having the proverbial rags to sitting on top of riches. I am rich beyond belief with a phenomenal husband who makes me happier than I have ever been in my life who works hard each and every day so that I can be a stay-at-home mother to our three fantastic children. We enjoy doing things as a family, even simple things like taking a walk or just having dinner together. You've read our quotes and conversations--we laugh like crazy people when we're spending time together. We're happy. How many families, rich or poor, can truly say that?

I'll admit that we may not have a lot of extra money, but if you ask me, I'll tell you that I'm the richest woman alive.

Eat your heart out, Oprah.