Poor guy is fine now - just one of those mysterious, 2 a.m. throw-ups - and we're on load five of bed linen laundry (his and ours).
But, for that reason and a million others, my birthday has me reflecting. On my reflection, sure (and my hard-earned laugh lines), but mostly on how I still feel 19, but do so many things that would have mortified my 19-year-old self.
Take for example, my absolute perfect birthday yesterday: I woke up, removed my Breathe Right strip, had my first eggnog latte of the season, shopped with Roman, did some Christmas decorating, chatted with family, then remained sober until after dark. (And after the kids were in bed, thankyouverymuch.) Polished off the night with a movie, Japanese take-out and Rombauer Chard. Perfect-o.
So maybe my birthday isn't the best example (save for the BR strip), but as 35 crept closer and then pounced, I adopted some not-so-youthful habits. You know...
- Listening to soft rock music stations. Adult contemporary. Easy listening. Whatever you want to call it, it's the only place where you get Wilson Philips, Dave Mathews, U2 and ABBA. Hard to beat.
- Griping, "who would call so late?" if my phone rings after 8. Actually, 7.
- Wearing leisure wear to pick up Ben and Roman from school.
- Talking about the weather.
- Talking about anything whatsoever to uninterested customer service people.
- Did I mention the Breathe Right strip?!
Still, all of that (and much more) considered, I'll take 35 over 19 any day. It's a good life; I guess that's why I hate to see the numbers tick higher.
Anyway, I'll wrap up these b'day ramblings. Roman's healthy and holding down food; we had a fun, funny day; and I guess my resolution is to follow the lead of this wise birthday card lady:
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