I am diverging this morning a bit from ketubahs to give you a glimpse into my home life.
Today is my birthday, which explains the extreme grumpiness I’ve been experiencing the past few day- sorry C. I’m just not that into the whole thing. Certainly I loved my birthday as a kid but these days it just bums me out. I should celebrate every day, to be sure, but damned if it’s just tough to say goodbye to yet another fast-fleeing year. What the heck, Time?
Of course nothing speeds up time like having a young child in the house. My daughter is changing before my eyes. Most mornings she’ll shuffle out of bed startlingly altered from the kid I put to sleep the night before. Like every day. It’s hard to keep holding on to the shaky premise that while she’s growing changing every day, I am not aging a bit. Talk about your deep, dark truthful mirrors. Thank you Elvis Costello.
This morning I woke up to some delicious hugs and impishly excited squirmings as she held my gift behind her back. Mena and Daddy gifted me with a new Kindle (yes, I am about 5 years behind the technology curve- I still use a flip phone) and the most endearing note I would say I’ve ever gotten.
So maybe birthdays are not so bad. Maybe.