Yesterday was my birthday.
I was unsure what to expect, with The Mighty Hunter in Lousville and me here in NE Alabama. He has needed reminding in the past exactly what day is my birthday. Poor thing always guesses the days around it. Then again, he could be fooling me and know the correct date all along.
Probably the latter.
He remembered without anyone reminding him, that I know of. Actually, he started singing the song to me the night before - just in case he wasn't able to talk much during the birthday. We actually talked several times yesterday, which allowed him to wish me a happy one several times. I think he felt badly for being in Louisville, but it can't be helped.
And, not to worry, I have a wonderful birthday meal planned when he is home.
But for now, I want to celebrate my 38th birthday in a way that is totally out of character for me. I want to celebrate me and
all some of my blessings (not all because I'd probably exceed the decent blog post length rules with a post like that. And we all know that my posts are long enough as it is.)
I'll start with things that I'd normally exclude due to modesty and all that crap. You must know that this is being written purely on impulse. I am in a strange mood. I got the kids to sleep and took a shower and was thinking about how good I have it. So, I'm sharing that obnoxious attitude with you.
I have good hair. Yes, it is a little dry on the ends and I color it. But this is what it looks like immediately after drying it with my head upside down. All that I lack is to run the iron over it to smooth it and a little spray to keep my bangs out of my eyes. Thank you, Jesus, for good hair and great hair-cuts.
I have a fairly straight nose that is a good size and shape for my face. Of all the cosmetic surgery that I would ever consider, a nose-job is not on that list. The early wrinkles and crow's feet around my eyes would go immediately after buying some boobs. Thank you, Jesus, for a straight, cute nose that I don't want to change.
I have a short, left thumb. I'm not actually thankful for this except that it makes me more unique and is a great object lesson for not playing with doors. Thank you, Jesus, for the surgeon who saved my thumb and the sympathy and understanding I have for others because of it.
I can raise my left eyebrow. This is what I look like when I'm angry. Well, maybe not exactly like this. I raised it as far as possible for the picture. Again, I'll fix my saggy, wrinkled eyes after a boob job. Thank you, Jesus, for non-verbal communication.
I'm thankful for my little friend and companion, the Canon Digital Rebel. I should name it. I took several pictures for this post and most of them were of the Rebel. I'm quite talented, I'm sure you'll agree. Thank you, Jesus, for The Mighty Hunter giving me this wonderful camera last year.
I have good teeth. I have had only one cavity in my life. It was on a loose baby tooth. The tooth fell out before I needed a filling. My dentist loves to clean my teeth. My smile may be crooked and needed some whitening, but it is a very healthy one. Thank you, Jesus, for my chompers.
I have blue eyes with green around the pupils. The Mighty Hunter loves them. They're relatively healthy too. One eye is very weak, but the other compensates nicely. One day, I'll have lasik or RK or some other surgery. Then I'll buy my boobs. Thank you, Jesus, for my unique, pretty and healthy peepers.
I have the sweetest, most tender-hearted, thoughtful, smartest, most talented, loving, funny, versatile, athletic, good student for a daughter. She is, in so many ways, just like me - only better. Thank you, Jesus, for loaning Sissy to me.
I have an adorable little stud for a son. He is funny, charming and smart. He can melt me with just a few words mumbled from behind his pappy. He's all boy, yet terribly affectionate to most anyone. Thank you, Jesus, for Lucky.
I have these eyes to look into and cause me to melt. purrrrrrrrrr. He's a big ol' teddy bear who loves me and our kids so much that he goes away for days at a time to provide for us. He hates being away from us, but does it because that's what real men do. They sacrifice. Thank you, Jesus, for the Christ-like love he gives us daily.
I have these friends who make me laugh till I hurt or cry or pee. I grew up without a sister but have gained 3 over the past few months that I wouldn't trade for a million dollars.
These friends do things like show up at my house with an ice cream birthday cake from DQ. Thank you, Jesus, for real
There. I feel better. I didn't want to turn 38. I wanted to turn 34 again. 34 was a good year. Sissy was 3 and full of crazy words and crazier songs and it was magical watching her personality explode all over everyone around her. But 38 is great too. At 38, Lucky will turn 2 and his language and personality will bloom. Sissy will turn 8, and she'll become a big kid for keeps. The Mighty Hunter will still love me fiercely and tenderly. My friends will still rock. My family will still be an incredible gift. The pain and disappointment of 37 will fade. 38 will be wonderful.
Let's make this a meme. On your birthday, blog about the things about yourself that are brag-worthy. Stop hating yourself; start loving yourself. Take an inventory of your positive features and the blessings in your life. Share it with the rest of us. I tag EVERONE!