I celebrated my 37th birthday yesterday. I wouldn’t say celebrated exactly though. I just stayed inside the house because it was freezing outside and since my car was TOTALED on Wednesday, thanks to heavy winds and a tree collapsing onto it, I didn’t have any way to get anywhere. Do I feel any different then I did at 36? No. Not at all. Does any one ever feel any different when they get older? I’ve noticed new wrinkles lining my eyes that my smile doesn’t look as genuine as it did 10 years ago.
I am thankful for the one thing my teenager did to help me though. He came home from school and picked up the horrendous mess his baby brother made with toys and snacks and whatever else he could get his hands on. So for that, I am honestly thankful. This behavior from my 16 year old NEVER occurs. Ever. He must have seen the stress in my eyes from having to deal with the insurance company all day and having had to chase his brother.
Camden was on his worst behavior with fits galore and attention grabbing situations that he uses to get attention. Like trying to climb the bookcase. Or climbing on tables to get to the windows. Or unlocking the front door to run down the porch like a little escapee. God, I love the terrible twos. Best time of my life right here.
So hello 37. Here’s to another year of mommyhood. To raising two teenagers and one toddler alone. Surely by now, I’ve got this. Happy Birthday to me.
*Note to readers, I am a very sarcastic person. While nothing is embellished, I’m sure you can figure out the sarcasm.*