Birthday

I meant to blog about my birthday.  Except there was really to say other than I am a year older.  No big celebration, no flowers or balloons.  Just the usual family day.  Nothing really exciting.  Every year, as my birthday approaches, I keep thinking that when I was young (before 18) all I wanted was to become 18.  At 18 you become an adult, at least legally.  When I turned 18, I wanted to be 21.  Everyone knows why being 21 is significant...not that everyone abide by it.  After I turned 21, I wanted to become 25.  Car insurance gets cheaper and I can rent a car on my own.  After I turned 25....I wanted to go back and be 18 again.

I don't know if everyone feel the way that I do, but sometimes I feel like I just want to run in circles around that age.  I don't fear aging...I'm not afraid to get all wrinkly and gray.  I enjoy being a wife and a mommy (although the latter has been increasingly challenging for me as of late).  But somehow, before my birthday approaches every year, I try to remember the days when I was younger and carefree.  Maybe because then, I didn't have to stress so much.  I feel like as you get older, the stress mounts because there's just much more to stress about.  You stop thinking beyond yourself that at some point, you forget about yourself.

This year, as I turned another year older, I have decided to go back every once and a while and think about myself.  So the first thing I did on my birthday is to go to the container store and bought items to organize my pantry.  That's for me, for my sanity.  So I thought of myself.  And every once in a while (on days where Sam just drives me and slams me on the wall), I will think of myself.