2 Years Ago Today.

Two years ago today, I was chilling in the maternity ward of Martha Jefferson Hospital. We had checked in an hour ago because my water broke around midnight. I remember bursting into tears when that happened --sure, because I was scared, because you were going to be three weeks early, because I thought I needed more time.

But I cried the most because the blinds to your windows weren't in yet, and the nursery wasn't perfect. Your mom is Type A, she can't help it.

Four rounds of Pitocin and one C-section later, you were here. And suddenly nothing else mattered.

One year ago today, I remember thinking how quickly twelve months could move. You were almost walking, and you had already said your first word, on your way to compiling many many more. I couldn't believe what a big boy you were.

Today I dropped you off at school, where you speak in sentences and have a posse of little friends and run around like crazy. You dance and play and have such a great little personality. Much like last year, I can't believe what a big boy you are.

Happy Birthday, little guy. I look forward to marveling at your awesomeness for another year.

Some Birthday Thoughts

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.