Happy, Happy, Happy

You know, it is not often in life that you get exactly what you want.  Especially after you have kids and your life and your wants and needs come second.  However, yesterday, my 40th birthday was spent and celebrated and lived exactly they way I wanted.

It actually started before my birthday as my new co-workers brought me presents and cake and began my birthday celebration early.  In the two months we have worked together, I have shared a lot with these women, probably over shared, and every day that I work with them and laugh with them and live my life along side them, I see so clearly why all those job interviews before were a bust.  This perfect job was not ready for me yet. 

I woke up feeling no older or different that I had going to bed at age 39.  That was a good start, right?  I wanted to start my day with a hard kettlebell workout and I got it.  I alternately felt young, strong and invincible and then old, feeble and decrepit.  My legs and lungs burned and  I had to lay on the floor when I was done.  That was not stretching, that was complete exhaustion. 

Then there is my amazing husband who took my wishes for a comfortable, easy going birthday party to heart even though he would have much rather cooked a real meal for everyone and made it fancy.  He still spent a lot of the day chopping and preparing but the man is happier with a knife in his hand and vegetables cut to uniform size.  He created atmosphere on our back deck with a tarp and sparkling lights and while I did not appreciate him scaling the trellis of our deck from the second story, I surely appreciated the ambiance when he was done.  I am sad to say he did not join us in the dress code of comfy pants though.  The polite Canadian in him could not wear pajama pants in mixed company.

And the well-wishes!  Texts, emails, phone calls and Facebook prompting my friends to wish me a happy birthday helped make the day feel truly all about me: new friends, girl friends I have known since kindergarten, family all wishing me a happy birthday.  My parents sending a care package of Buffalo goodies for everyone to enjoy: Sahlen's hot dogs, Weber's mustard and Bison chip dip were consumed with gusto.  And then my party where my house and my deck overflowed with the friends who have become my family.  My friends who came to my house in their pajama pants and comfy pants because that is what I wanted.  Friends who really did not think twice when I opened the door clad in my reindeer pajama pants.  Friends who made and wore shirts openly mocking my love of Buffalo and comfy pants.  Friends who appreciate my thriftiness....


Make lemonade?  That is silliness.

As well as friends who know I have no filter...

read who starts the game

 

I have to say that when Bill lit all 40 candles on my cake and I stood there with them ABLAZE and heard twenty plus of the dearest voices I know singing Happy Birthday to me, well, I was overcome. It was all I could do not to ugly cry right there.  Only the thought of someone catching that on film stopped the waterworks before they started because it really would have been full on open-mouthed, no sound sobbing.  In that moment I knew that from now on, every prayer I say has to start with "Dear God, I am sorry for being a sucky whiner for the last ten years because truly you have blessed me in abundance."

Perhaps 40 is all about realizing what you have and being damn grateful for it.  I saw it and heard it and felt it all with intense clarity last night.  When asked how I felt about 40 last night, I could only answer "Exuberant."  Today I would add awed, confident, fulfilled, blessed, content and even excited.  And in the immortal words of Phil Robertson, I would also have to add "Happy, happy, happy."