January 11

Today is my 45th birthday.

It was, all in all, a quiet one. Adam had a busy work day, so I took Isaac to school and then Brady and I enjoyed our usual Starbucks date. I briefly chit-chatted with Terry there before shuttling Brady to class.

And then I headed off to Target and Hobby Lobby and Joann, where I secured three different Corvettes (thanks Logan) and a single ball of yarn that I earmarked for beanies for this fall's military pack-out.

Adam ventured out into the rain to get cheesesteaks for us for lunch, and when he returned we talked and munched as he made my cake. (Which was, for the record, chocolate with homemade peanut butter frosting. And just for kicks I requested that he put whole peanuts in the middle layer, which he did. And it was delicious. But I'm getting ahead of myself.) 

I picked up the boys and then had a little downtime by myself before we went to dinner at the Gay 90s downtown. (That's me with a slice of Wayne's World, which is basically a Greek salad in pizza form.) And then back at home, Abby video called in while I opened presents (which included a book of crochet patterns for items for my cat, only I don't have a cat so I wondered if one might be forthcoming. Nope. No cat). And then we finished the celebration with the fiery inferno that was my cake: 45 candles blazing. (And no, I didn't get them all on the first try. Or the second. Or the third. But I did eventually get them all.)

Yes, all in all, it was a good day. I felt loved by my family and that's what matters most. It's strange to be 45, mostly because it's a shock to my system to realize that my 40th birthday --which seemed like such a big deal at the time-- was five whole years ago; that I'm already straddling the midpoint between 40 and 50. But that's okay too. I know I'm blessed and I know that I'm loved. And I'm grateful to God for every candle I've earned.