Over a year ago, on my 29th birthday, I sat with a close friend and generated a joint 30 by 30 list. For those of my readers who are unfamiliar with the concept, this is a written list of experiences that one would like to have before turning 30. Most often, the list is developed by insecure young adults in the twilight of their twenties. It is much like a bucket list, except rather than die, we turn thirty.
My friend and I, with the help of our spouses, began recording our ideas on the back of a bar napkin. Since we created a joint list, our collection of goals reflected divergent interests. Her activities were practical and locally accessible, while mine included “pole-vault 10 feet at a pole vault camp in Atascadero.” Needless to say, most of our goals were not reached over the past twelve months. I did not pole vault ten feet, perform stand-up comedy, or complete a food challenge at a local restaurant.
However, my friend did include one personal goal that we both coincidentally managed to accomplish within the year: have a baby. She and her husband actually celebrated the birth of their daughter about a month after my son was born. When this goal was placed on the list, I initially protested. My wife and I certainly wanted a child, but this list was for grandiose ideas like pole vaulting and eating nine burritos in one sitting. Yes, the goal of baby-having would remain on the list, but I would always refer to it as her goal, and not mine.Thank goodness I consented, or else I would have accomplished 0 of the 30 goals. When people ask me how many goals I accomplished, I can at least say that I was productive. Well, reproductive.
This past month, I celebrated my first birthday as a father. In order to lighten the stress of suddenly becoming a 30-year-old DAD, my wife threw me a wonderfully childish birthday shindig. The party was mustache themed, and included a pink unicorn bounce house. Yes, my wife is cooler than every wife ever, and it was a glorious success. The party gave me the opportunity to introduce my beautiful son to old friends, sing dirges in honor of my twenties (may the years rest in peace), and usher in a new decade.
So here I am, a 30-year-old father, currently feeling as though my twenties were a lifetime ago. And believe it or not, that is a good thing. It was an excellent decade, but it lacked messy diapers and slobbering faces. This next decade will be full of new life, giant smiles, and hopefully, a few awesome mustaches.