On Sunday, I will spend another wonderful Christmas day with my family . . . and on Monday, I will celebrate another birthday.
I can remember the days I would dream of having my own children . . . preferably four, spaced about two years apart. I dreamed of the birthdays when the four children would gather in the kitchen with the art supplies (think construction paper, gel pens, glue sticks, glitter, and pipe cleaners) and make their homemade birthday cards. In my dreams, I imagined my awesomely handsome, productive, and loving husband, making scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns in the kitchen. Since it would be a special day for mom to sleep in, my loving family would tiptoe upstairs, with a tray table filled with breakfast, cards, and small trinkets. Some of the glitter would have flaked off the cards into the scrambled eggs, but that just made it a bit more festive.
But . . . it didn’t happen that way. On my birthday this year, I will get up, feed my two kitties, take the Christmas tree down, and think about changes I will make to the house in which I currently live, as I transition from renter to owner. (Thank goodness for a good relationship with my ex-boyfriend who is currently my landlord.) Compared to the dreams I had, the reality seems a little different, doesn’t it? While my dreamworld birthday doesn’t exist, I will be completely content in my birthday routine. Why? Because I choose to be happy, to acknowledge the goodness and awesomeness of my life. I have chosen to be positive, productive, loving, joyful, and always hopeful. Happy Birthday to me, indeed!
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