Sunshine Day

On Friday I celebrated my 48th birthday (can you believe it!) It was great fun as Su made my favorite kind of cake (Red Velvet with cream cheese frosting) and about a dozen or so neighbors came by to celebrate.

Forty-eight. It’s so weird to me that I’m 48. When I was a kid, that was older than old. Some might argue that it still is.

One hundred years ago the life expectancy in the U.S. for men was 47.9 years and for women 50.7 years. By the end of the century those numbers changed to 73.6 for men and 79.4 for women. (This from the National Vital Statistics System.) That’s quite remarkable.

So my great-grandparents were very near the end of their lives when they were 48 whereas I’m the mother of a one year old. Amazing. I guess this is good news for those of us who are self-described late bloomers ;-)

On the morning of my special day, as a treat, Susanne took charge of all things “Danny” including feeding him breakfast, cleaning up, making aromatic diaper changes—all things that made it possible for me to just lay on the couch with my cup of coffee and read the newspaper in its entirety before going to work. We usually share these duties, and they don’t really lend themselves to relaxed reading.

So as I lay there on the couch, happy as a clam, I commented to Susanne that in a way, my luxurious birthday break was, in effect, just like my life used to be before we had Danny.

That was a pretty intriguing thought, but an even better thought was the fact that I would not trade my life today with anyone for anything.

And that ladies and gentlemen is the best birthday present one could ever ask for. Right sunny son of mine?

-Monica