I must apologize for the whining and ranting nature of yesterday's post. I blame it all on PBS. No, not PBS - as -in- the-only-kind -of-television- my- deprived-kids -get-to-watch- PBS, no, I'm talking about Pre-Birthday Syndrome. For those unfamiliar with PBS, it's an affliction that strikes people (mainly females) after their 29th year, oftentimes days, and sometimes, weeks, prior to the onset of their birthdays. Often accompanied by panicked vanity sessions in front of a mirror to assess noticeable signs of aging, and always coupled with a mental checklist of things that should have been accomplished by this age in life, but haven't been. So you see, I was feeling a little out-of-sorts.
But you know what? I've decided that I'm happy to be 33!
On an Oprah-esque limb, I've decided that I OWN my age. Would I trade in the youth of my 20's for the wisdom of my 30's? Not even for a second. Sure, I could do without the premature (or maybe, rightful?) gray and the crow's feet by my eyes, but they're a small price to pay for the confidence I feel in my own skin today. 10 years ago, I was slim and trim and black-haired, but I always felt awkward and unsure; always seeking to please for approval. Today, I'm a little flabbier- post-two babies, and the boobs don't sit where they used to post-nursing, but I've come into being me and trusting myself in a way that only time could bring. So bring on the celebration, I say! Turning 33 is more than ample reason!
And besides, who can resist a party when The Husband went and BAKED a cake for tonight??! (For those of you with DHs who cook on a regular basis, just know that this is HUGE for me. :)) And look at the card my 3 year old son, Brother Bossy Boots, made for me... (that's supposed to be an envelope with a stamp in the middle) His card made me tear up! I feel so blessed to have a loving husband and two incredible kids (who, by the way, usually do wear clothes :-)).
So hurray for my birthday! I am a lucky, lucky girl indeed!!!