Happy Birthday to me!

My step-dad, Jim, has a little sign in his basement bathroom that reads "It is foolish to resent growing old; many are denied the privilege." This year, I experienced celebrating another year of life as nothing but a privilege and just felt happy all day long. It was gorgeous, sunny and warm, which didn't hurt. I spent some time in the morning with Chase and Kayleigh, my regular Friday buddies, then went to Alondra's around mid-day, where she and her entire family sang me Las Mananitas and "made" me dunk my face into the tasty chocolate cake they got for me. Alondra and her cousin, Jorge, and friend, Jewel, then joined me at our house for some drawing and prism-coloring. Jorge cracks me up with his questions that always start with him half-shouting, "Hey Mira!" "Hey Mira! When you were my age, what did you want to be when you grew up?" "Hey Mira! Do you get paid to be a Big Sister?"

Eric and I went to Powell's for a bit in the afternoon and I picked out my birthday book and then we met some friends for a somewhat-impromptu dinner party at McMenamins Grand Lodge. We had talked with Eliser about hanging out, but we didn't decide until Thursday night that we'd go to dinner, so I was surprised when all these folks said yes, they'd be there!

I had a great time hanging out with all these wonderful friends and loved seeing some folks connect who hadn't known each other before. Even Daniel had a good time, I think.

I ended the perfect day on the phone with my mom, who told me about the day that I was born. It was a sunny day like this one and she rode her bike that morning with my brother, who was three, in one of those plastic seats on the back...

I was born at home that evening on a big green couch and the midwives didn't arrive before I did, so my dad caught me. I just love hearing my birth story and every time, there is some little detail there that she hadn't mentioned before and the picture of the day becomes just a little bit fuller and clearer in my mind. Like this year, she said that the cake she made earlier in the day of my birth was a dense carrot cake. I never knew that (I knew it had to be dense, though. My mom's cakes are always dense). I do love carrot cake.

The very best part about it is being reminded that my mom was so happy and that my birth was a wonderful experience that she shared with my dad. It's a reminder to me that I have never not been loved.

A happy birthday indeed.