happy birthday

to me.

It’s the last year of my twenties and I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.  So far, the day has begun like any other day off–except I got two cards this morning, instead of one.  One from Bub and one from Ian. 

I’ve been trying to get out of the house, but bottles, pumping, nursing, dishes, playing, bathing, diaper changing, …., have all gotten the better of my time.  But that’s okay.  The little bug is napping.  The sun is shining and in an hour we’ll pick up “Dada” from the train and be on our way to Ian’s GI appointment.  Then I’ll most likely nit pick over everything that happens at the appointment and have a glass of wine. 

So many people push aside the fact that birthdays are just another day.  And I get why people say that.  But it’s a time for me to reflect on what I’ve done, who I am, and who I hope to become.  Right now, all I want is for Ian to be healthy.  He certainly demonstrates that he’s happy.  

Although it is just any other day, it’s one more day on this Earth to be.