Never has a birthday bothered me. I usually just roll with. No biggee, no worries. I'm not a big birthday person anyway. No "Birthday Week or Month" for me.
Ya, turning forty, not so much. I don't like it. I don't want to be forty. I feel like forty is halfway to dead and I have not even begun to do what all I want to do.
But, realistically...... I have a great little family, the bestest hubby and two gorgeous boys. I own my own house. (even if it is kind of messy sometimes) My job is a good one and I make a difference and help people every day. (at least I like to think that I do) I am finally finishing my degree. (if it kills me!!!!)
I read, and cook and sew and knit and that makes me happy. (when I find the time to do it)
Ok, so what's a few grey hairs and wrinkles. (the bags under my eyes are not up for discussion) So what if I can't wear the jeans I wore 10 years ago. (they are not in style anyway) I know I'm too old for Uggs. (but I still wear them)
I refuse to feel sorry for myself. (at least I'm not forty-nine, like my brother, then we'll talk)....
PS: Thanks to all whose warm fuzzies made my birthday a little brighter.
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