Wednesday, June 06, 2007


Holy fock, I am old.

And no, that's not a typo. I'm trying to swear less. After the following incident Monday:

Me: (muttering angrily and not especially verbally at the computer)

Maggie (on my lap watching Dora while I work, cheerily): DAMMIT!!!

Oh God. Paul would KILL ME if I told him (he'd just that weekend made a comment about how my pottymouthed self had to stop with the swearing now that we have Miss Chatterbox) so I'll just share it with the whole Internet instead.

Back on ze topic: Today was my 37th birthday. Aside from the treacherous closeness of that number to 40, it was a wonderful, beautiful day. Except for the fact I awakened at 3am to discover one of my cats had begun a pukefest ON MY PILLOW. if you have cats, you know there's usually quite a bit of fanfare that accompanies such an event, so how in God's name I didn't awaken is beyond me. However, I got right back to sleep. Maggie woke up around 8 and Paul brought her into our bed, as usual. She snuggled with her head on my stomach and her feet on Paul, looked up at me and said "Mommy? I love you."

I can't imagine starting a new year any better way.

Really, today seemed designed to remind me how rich I am. I'd been noodling a little bit about how far I am financially and professionally from where I'd like to be at this advanced age. People have written books already at my age, gotten famous, have thriving careers. I'm not there, and I need to figure out how much I want to be and how I'm going to pull it off.

But my day started with the sunny face of my beautiful daughter and the loving attention of my husband. Other than sleeping in and eating steak for dinner, nothing much happened with them today that woudn't have any other day. And that's an amazing gift, when you think about it -- that I am blessed to have a husband that treats me as if every day is special, and a daughter so delightful that joy is pretty much an everyday occurence. Ten years ago, I never thought I would be so lucky. One year ago, I'd begun to fight off a pretty horrifying depression thanks to medication and my fierce desire to do right by my husband and daughter. Now, life is immeasurably better.

There are all kinds of things I wish for: new running shoes, a new roof, and hell, maybe a flat-screen TV for good measure. Paul and I didn't get each other gifts this year, although we're going to buy something for ourselves as a joint gift when our financials improve. My cousin left me a message wishing "that you got everything you want, need and deserve." It sounds weird to acknowledge we didn't even do presents (although I don't think she was talking about material goods either). But I am brimming over with gratitude today, because I already have everything I ever hoped for.


Wood said...

Sounds like a wonderful birthday. I loved this post.

Summer said...

Happy birthday, Amy! If I were overflowing with cash, I'd send you some Nike Frees (because I love those shoes like nobody's business, and I think everyone should have them) but as it is, you'll have to settle for my best wishes for a happy year.

Anna said...

Happy Birthday! I'm so glad to hear your 38th year is off to a wonderful start. Don't fret; I'll be joining you when I turn 27 in a few months. Having a loving spouse and a happy & healthy child is just the bees knees, and I too am grateful every day.

On the cursing note (since we are pottymouths ourselves, here), what about "frak?" Yeah, I'm a Battestar Gallactica nut and that's the word they use in liu of another four letter f-word. Just a suggestion froma geek! Have a happy! :)

apt said...

Sigh. Refreshing post on getting what you need. Thanks. Happy birthday!

I was in the backseat of the car with my 3 year old niece when my sister slammed on the breaks, sending my coffee over the edge.

"Holy Crap!" I shouted.
My niece look up t me, made the same face I was and yelled, Ooh my crap!"

Good heads up for what's to come for us.

Amy said...

Happy Birthday! And 37 is very much *not* old, by the way.

And I know what you're talking about. We are not wealthy. Life is not perfect. And yet, when anyone asks me how I am doing I answer, "I'm living the dream!"

And I am not being sarcastic when I say it.

Amy in KC

Em said...

Happy Birthday! I have a year and a half on you.

I had to laugh about the language. One recent afternoon I heard E say, "Holy sh#t" when something on the TV surprised her. I've been minding my manners ever since.

queleanorirk said...

My oldest daughter's first perfectly grammatical, clearly enunciated sentence at the ripe old age of twenty-two months was, while shaking her head in dismay, "That futtin' dog shit on the rug again."

Made me clean up my speech in a hurry! Now, however, she is 27, my middle girl is 21, and my youngest is 17. They all swear like truck-driving sailors.