So today is my birthday. Yay! The hubs wrote a very sweet post about me/us and that was a lovely way to start the day -- that, and the homemade crepes for breakfast. Yum.
So, to answer the usual question: Do I feel older?
Yes. But way older than 32, I can assure you. I think any fellow parent can agree that a child has the awesome ability to both age you at lightning speed and help you recapture some youthful exhuberance. How I manage to chase B around for a day, jog on my treadmill, then hobble around at night like an arthritic 80-year-old is a fascinating mystery.
I also realize today that for probably the first time in my 32 years, I have absolutely no expectations for "my day." In years past I pouted if I didn't have fab plans, or if I didn't get something I really wanted as a gift, or just because I was a spoiled only child who had an insanely huge entitlement complex. While I've been trending (a word only a marketer could love) toward contentment for a while, I really feel it this year. My mom got so frustrated with me this year because I couldn't tell her what I wanted for a gift. But it was because I basically had everything--the important things--I wanted and needed.
Sure, I'd love to be independently wealthy and/or travel around the world for my birthday ... but for now, I'm good. I'm happy.
Maybe I'm finally all growed up after all.
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