The first hour of my day is usually the best part of my day, which is to say that I am an introvert and set my alarm at least an hour before anyone else in my house gets up so that I can be completely alone and selfish.
On my birthday, I did something a little different: I set my alarm a little later, though still early enough that I didn't have to talk to anyone, and went to a yoga class. Not only was my favourite yoga teacher subbing (don't take that statement too seriously - I've only been to half a dozen yoga classes in the last year), but no one else showed up. It was just me. The world was working in my favour.
I started my day with a tiny bit a sweat and bliss: my favourite. And then I had to go home and merge with reality. Did anyone make dinner for me? No. What about a cake? Nope. Breakfast? No. Who had to put sunscreen on the screaming toddler? Me. But that's all part of the life I've chosen. Even on your birthday, its still just a day.
And do you know what's on the flip side of the proverbial coin of motherhood? Coming home from yoga to find water waiting for me in a wine glass, because Nevin knows I like drinking from that special glass. Handmade birthday cards. "Happy birthday, Mama!"'s expressed with glee. Nostalgia from the six-year-old. When the greetings were done and the water drank, Scarlett looked to imaginary stage left and said, wistfully, "Oh, where do the years go?"
Honestly, I don't really know where the years go or how I ended up in my mid-thirties with all the bells, whistles and kids. A series of decisions lead me here, but it is the decisions I make first thing in the morning that keep me moving forward with intention.