This week I turned 35. Some days I can’t believe everything that has happened in my life in the last 10 years. I moved to America. I started a job. I made friends. I met my husband. I had two beautiful sons. I quit aforementioned job. I grew up. Some days I’m still in awe that I get to walk down the street with my two children, responsible for their safety and well-being and almost expect someone to walk up to me and call me out on my bluff. But life, shockingly, is working out, and most days it’s quite beautiful.
Within the last week I’ve gone out three times. With former co-workers, my husband on my birthday, and a friend the day after. Man, I’m 35 now. One thing I certainly can’t do anymore like I did 10 years ago is party. Holy blessed hangover! Hangovers are so much more manageable when you can get yourself to work and stare at your computer while drinking coffee all day long and thinking about that last drink that you certainly shouldn’t have had. But when you did have that last drink, your children will most certainly wake up earlier than usual the next morning. And they will be loud. Probably not any louder than on any other given day, but omg everything is amplified. Time to calm down and pretend I’m a responsible woman. Hello, 35.
This has been such a friend-filled week. We had friends over for pizza this weekend, friends over to play (Arthur has a new little buddy – he is so excited!), friends we’ve run into in the neighborhood, and we’re looking forward to back-to-back birthday parties for Julian’s and Arthur’s friends this weekend (3 in all!).
My birthday was a very normal day. But it started with Julian climbing into bed next to me and whispering, “Today is your birthday, Mama.” We ate birthday cake for breakfast and throughout the day. Everyone made me feel so special.
We’re all feeling well, and we are happy. And that’s all I can ask for on my birthday or any other day.
We’ve been eating cake and muffins and cookies.