I am not one who is embarassed by being fussed over or being given attention on my birthday. Phone calls, text messages, email cards, and hugs? Love it! Birthday cake? Yes, please. Happy birthday song by the loud operatic singer at Macaroni Grill? Bring it.
I am also not one to lament turning another year older. I realize that I'm only entering the years where people really gripe about birthdays, but I really believe strongly that I never will. Whining about a birthday is a pessimist's way of complaining that they're not dead yet. Having stared death in the face in my early 20s, I'm game for all kinds of birthday celebration! Never mind that I have now found a few more glistening silver hairs in the mirror and that I'm regularly using anti-aging moisturizer. Just a good excuse for more beauty products and trips to Ulta and Sephora.
This year, my birthday fell in the midst of a lot of hectic goings-on. I was hearing news about appraisals and inspections and title reports and escrow documents and CC&Rs (still have no clue whether that is a rock band or a financial statement), work's so chaotic that I worked late to try to be able to go on vacation, and Rebecca got sick. I have to admit that I had given little thought to my birthday this year. No wish list, even!But it ended up being one of my most enjoyable.
I took a few days off to fly back to Tennessee. Being "home" is always a wonderful treat. My mom plied me with biscuits, country ham, and sweet tea. I got to hang out with (at least a few members of my) girl posse. Seeing Les Miserables again after 9 years and being with my pals on the third row to see the 25th anniversary tour was an amazing celebration. I got a lottery ticket at a sketchy convenience store we dashed in because we all needed a bathroom and won $20 on it. I had a girls night for Mexican food and at the movies, complete with raucous laughter. My little girl selected my gift with such care and excitement that nothing could compare, and her hugs and kisses and repeated wishes of "Happy birthday, Mama!" made the day so precious. I started my actual birthday in Tennessee and then flew across the country (and Southwest gave me the gift of there being relatively no major delays) to end the birthday with my darling hubby. He picked us up at the airport and took me out for Italian for dinner and wrote sweet, thoughtful words in my birthday card. When I returned to work the next day, my co-neuropsychology partner-in-crime brought me my favorite Panera cinnamon crunch bagel with honey walnut cream cheese and iced tea and a funny card. On Friday night, my bestie Julie took me out for more pasta and the delight of a girls night of chatter. The weekend after, Rebecca and I made my aunt's famous strawberry cake as my birthday cake, and I'm not sure which of us enjoyed the fact that we were baking together more.
It was a wonderful birthday, because I'm blessed to be surrounded by so much love. My mom and Rebecca ooze love with their words and hugs and kisses and adoration. Ramy shows me love in the thousand things he does so carefully and with such devotion for me and the way he painstakingly writes sweet things in my cards and then tells me twisted jokes that only he and I would find funny. My girl posse can simultaneously give me the town gossip, important news, withering assessments of people we know, and make me laugh until I get a cramp in my side. I get to work with people who have my back and with whom I get to share hard work that is amazingly fulfilling. Julie shares with me this season of life in which we're balancing motherhood and career and has an uncanny ability to disarm my insecurities and recognize that my own quirks and obsessions maybe aren't so freakishly unique.
That kind of love is the best celebration!
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