Today is my birthday.

I’ve really been struggling lately with the whole aging thing. My birthday is just a reminder of the imminence of death and a life I feel I’ve not yet lived. I was up all night trying to figure out how I was going to change this year. What can I do differently to live more fully?

Shouldn’t I have a career? What about the farm I want? I want to travel the world! I want to DO IT ALL! I was really stressing out! At about 3 in the morning, I finally resigned to the fact that I still had some time left at the age of 33 so I shouldn’t despair too much.

As I went to climb into bed around 4; my toddler started to cry, my oldest started to throw up in our bed, and I went from ready to sleep to ready for duty in seconds. My oldest showered, my little one watched Brave, and I cleaned puke out of carpet all before the sun rose.

We finally made it to bed, I awoke at 7 to my toddler climbing all over me and felt really determined to live this next year as though I have a death sentence. I mean 33 could potentially be half my life already over. It feels just so old.

It wasn’t until my oldest asked me how old I was that I realized I’M NOT 33! Haha, I was born in 1982 so that means

I got an extra year to live

and I need to work on my math skills.

Happy 32nd Birthday to me!



Happy Birthday to ME!

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