I'm 35. Instead of blowing off my birthday or acting like it was just another day, I decided to live it up. Not the way I did when I turned 8, 14, or 21, but in a way I never have. I embraced and appreciated the entire day and was able to find much joy... much gratitude... much contentment.
Every text, every phone call or every email. Or it might have been receiving birthday cards in the mail like this one. I love the way my name looks when it's written like this. I don't see it often, so when I do, I obviously grab my camera and snap a photo.
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It could have been the way the kids got so excited when they found out it truly was my birthday.
Or it could have been this sneaky little fellow who has a higher percentage of alcohol than I'm used to and ended up biting me back later in the evening.
Yet I'm willing to guess it was none of those. I looked at 35 years of life and was truly grateful for all the gifts I've ever received. Not the gifts I've unwrapped but the gifts of family, the indescribable love for my kids and a husband who knows me better than I know myself. On the years I turned 8, 14, or 21, I sometimes wonder if I wished for this life as I blew out my birthday candles. Either way, I am grateful.
Meanwhile, Molly's lips are chapped...
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