Maturing merely from passing years bodes superficial splendor. We are dynamic beings — discovering ourselves through active exploration, revealing and renewing, examining and adjusting, reinforcing strengths and dampening weaknesses.
Waking Saturday early to tiny toes running from Maya’s bed to Mommy’s, accepting my morning accost of kisses and snuggles, I smiled, sweetly negotiating the terms of what it would take for a little adult time as my boyfriend quietly reveled in the hilarity of my bargaining for birthday sex. After presenting the princess with oatmeal and milk on which to nosh in the company of one of her cartoon favorites, I bought me and my man a solid twenty minutes…success…a healthy, happy birthday morning.
Satiated and ready to relish turning 31, I took my trio downtown. Mochas and cocoa taming our tummies, we conquered the playground and a whiny moment of diva demands over what pretty little treasure she could coerce us into acquiring for her on my birthday; women want too much — but they give as good as they get.
Feeling spoilt by love in all the right places, being unapologetically exactly as I am, I arranged my birthday brunch on the ever elegant Joe Forte’s patio — where the wine is worthy of its markup and proposals are plentiful…not holding my breath, but why not set an appropriate stage?
Dining up there in Eden, savoring my nearest and dearest with a perfectly pink cosmopolitan, truffle hollandaise, lemon-butter scallops, and valrhona lavender brownies, I feel fondly how much better this birthday is than the last; it is more — because I am.
I have matured, constantly striving to grow with the positive, expunge the negative. I embrace or augment my process daily to honor my nature, to appreciate myself and to feel good…as life, in the end, really is about the ride.
As an inspirational friend reminded me today — I know my own worth and should live accordingly.