It’s my birthday
So, it’s kind of like, you know, my birthday.
I’m 36, in case you were wondering.
According to my son, I’m turning 106, but whatever.
That means there are only 4 more years until I am 40.
40 doesn’t seem as old as it did in my youth. Except when I realize I got married when my mother was 42.
Then I just feel old.
Sometimes, I feel too old to accomplish my dreams of publishing a book. Don’t all the successful people begin earlier to succeed? Like, I don’t know, before 36?
Maybe not. I don’t plan on dying any time soon, so maybe there’s still time for me. And on that train of thought, I want you to give me a birthday present or two.
First, come read my post at Just.Be.Enough. about my tenacious daughter and how she is teaching me that I’m not too old to dream.
Then, come and read my guest post at the Power of Moms about how we show love at our house.
Two guest posts on my birthday. How super cool is that?!?
And with that, I am off to eat cake. Ok, so not cake. I’ve never liked cake. But maybe some chocolate and a Pepsi. That is totally doable!