Tomorrow I turn 31.
I have nothing remarkable planned for the day. We’ll start off like we do every Saturday morning. We’ll pile the kids into our bed at 6:30 a.m. because they are awake and we’re desperate for a few more precious minutes of sleep. We’ll “sleep” with Dora on while two precocious little fireballs bounce on our heads and begin their demands for the day.
“Mommy, I want chocolate milk.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry, you should make us breakfast.”
“Mommy, wake up… it’s MORNING time.”
And of course, they’ll always ask me for all of these things even though their father is 3 feet away, because that’s what my kids do. And their father, who is a Saint of a man, will attempt to corral them and tell them to get up and go in the den so mommy can get a few more minutes of sleep because it’s her birthday.
They’ll say “Oh happy birthday mommy.” Followed by an “But daddy, I’m still really hungry.”
And I’ll lay in bed and attempt to catch a few more precious moments of sleep, but by now I’m wide awake and let’s face it, I’d really rather be sipping my coffee with those crazy bed-head little lunatics anyway.
Because they are my little lunatics. And also my most favorite people in the world.
We’ll head off to dance class and then to a child’s birthday party. Eventually we’ll end up at my parent’s house where I’ve requested that no special meal be made. I don’t want anyone to work. I want to eat pizza or burgers and swim and drink beer and maybe throw in a game of cards after we get the chlorine and sunscreen scented children into pajamas.
And I guess the real beauty in turning 31 is that this all sounds like a perfectly marvelous day to me.
I’ve got my tribe. The littles are demanding and impossible to deal with at times. The big one drives me to the brink of insanity weekly. But I love them to the farthest reaches of the moon and back.
I can honestly say 30 was my favorite year to date. I am more comfortable in my own skin than I have ever been.
I’m stronger, both physically and emotionally.
I took time for me. I learned new skills, I exercised, I read books, I took on new work.
I look back at what I wrote about turning 30 and it makes me so happy because quite honestly, it’s become even better. I’ve become even more fabulous and I don’t even feel like a snob for saying that because I’ve worked my ass off to feel this good about where I am in life.
I know where my priorities are and I don’t long for things I don’t have.
I’m more in love with my husband than I was yesterday and I look forward to all of the ways I can fall even harder for him.
I crave time with my kids like they are a drug and I am 100% addicted.
I forgive myself when I mess up.
I apologize when I hurt others.
I smile and laugh more.
I worry a little less.
I’m still this giant work in progress yet I still can’t believe how far I’ve come.
The thing I’m looking forward to most about turning 31 is the privilege of another day on this most amazing journey that is my life. In case you can’t tell, I’m really really happy.
So, happy 31st birthday to me. Here’s to another year that is even better than the last one.