On birthdays 

When I was little, they were burgers and crowns and blowers. When I was in college they were Keggers and all nighters (and still maybe some blowers). When I was in my twenties they were martini bars and tapas with a birthday candle on top. When I was in my thirties they were family affairs with an ice cream cake and cheesy fries at the outback. In my forties they have ranged from training for half marathons to rehabbing a herniated disc. At this point in my life I’m wondering if it’s half over or half begun. What do I have to show and what do I have yet to learn. On the outside I have a husband, 2 teenage girls, 2 dogs, and a magical, mystical lizard. On the inside I’m as confused and lost as a newborn baby. But instead of learning how to eat and drink and crawl and stand and walk I’m learning to be. And this is the hardest of all the lessons so far.

Happy birthday to me.


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