My husband hijacked my blog this morning and surprised me with an honest and loving tribute, one of which I feel hardly worthy. More on that later.
On your birthday people wish you a wonderful, blessed day, a day of celebration, maybe relaxation...a day "all about you." We mamas know the work doesn't let up just because it's the anniversary of my birth. Was it a day of rest? No. Did my kids make me breakfast in bed, stop pooping in their diapers for a day, give me a pedicure? Nah.
It was a regular, vanilla day in most regards. We started with physical therapy for Shu (a pretty good session), returned some library books (a contrived errand to get us out of the house), drove through the Wendy's drive-thru (gift to myself = not fixing pb&j for lunch, again), and had a picnic on our deck. After naps, we rode bikes, scooters, and ride-ons in the driveway until Aunt Gena arrived to babysit so Dr. Husband and I could have dinner out...plus a brief stop at Target for milk.
It was a crazy 60+ degrees today, a beautiful day to breathe in deep draughts of fresh air and fresh grace. An ordinary, tiring day, but not without joy and hope.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all who responded to my husband's post, whether here or on Facebook. Many of you brought me to tears with your words, tangible expressions of the Father's love for me and our family that I so badly needed to hear. (And don't we all?) I am overwhelmed by God's goodness and the kindness of friends, both of whom perceive the "true me" a heck of a lot more accurately than I see myself. I'm thankful for my life, my husband, children like olive plants around my table (loud, insatiable olive plants), even thankful for Facebook reminding us all of each other's birthdays. So helpful!
It's been a very good birthday! Even if I am almost 40.