Thursday, June 4, 2015

Turning 45

Yesterday was my 45th birthday.  I made it through the day with some fanfare.  I was greeted in the morning with kiss and happy birthday from my husband, three birthday cards (instead of two), and a great new monopod for my Canon.  Seems that our oldest has learned that mom likes birthday cards, even if it took him all day to say happy birthday after I subtly reminded him.

I would have loved to take the day off work, but I'm in the final hours of planning a trade show, and it seems as if everything rests on my shoulders.  I would probably be much further along if I didn't have to jump through hoops to get every little thing approved.  I guess, though, since I've only been with my current company for a little over seven months, I should be pleased with what I can get done.

So, what did I learn yesterday, now that I'm closer to 50 (yikes!)?  I learned (knew) that my husband and boys, inlaws and mom love me and wanted to make sure I had a good day.  I also learned that the family you are born into isn't necessarily the same family that you have at 45.  With four siblings, three sib-in-laws and nine nieces and nephews, I heard from one sister-in-law, her daughter and son and another niece.  I can't say that I'm surprised.  If you've read any of this blog before, you'll know that unfortunately I'm not that close with my side of the family.  I'm thankful that I did hear from many on my husbands side, who I am happy to say are my family too.

I also had Facebook greetings, texts, IMs and emails from about 150 friends, cousins and colleagues.  I think that's pretty cool.  I hope that I successfully responded to each and every one of you.  I even had one this morning that was a really nice message, only the find out it was deleted.  You know who you are....so thanks for the wishes C!

I'll be honest...I don't always remember to wish my family happy birthday wishes (unless they are on Facebook!)...but it doesn't mean I'm not thinking of them and that I don't love them.  I do.  And now, realizing that I don't always remember, I will make every effort to call, text, email, tweet, and run up to their house with a birthday cake, balloons and a pinata.

All in all, 45 isn't any different than 44, except my knees hurt a little more, I don't need quite as much sleep (only on the weekends), and I need to officially debunk the rumors my children spread saying that I'm old.  I'm not old, boys.  I'm getting better with age.