My first birthday as a mom. My best birthday.
I usually spend my birthdays thinking about the past year--how I've grown and changed and what's happened and all that. I didn't do a whole lot of that this year, although I did some.
I think that one of the best things about parenthood is the way is forces you to think less about yourself.
I mean, at first it sucked. I grieved my ability to be selfish, my independence, my ability to keep my shirt on the whole day and how I could take showers without planning them around schedules. I grieved grocery shopping without a trillion pound car seat, diaper bag and possibly fussy baby.
It really did change everything.
But I've accepted my new life. And I realize it's way better than my old one.
When you have a child, you finally realize what it's like to love someone else more than yourself. And I'll be darned if that wasn't the hardest and best thing ever to happen to me.
So when there's a little snotty nosed boy whining at me all day on my birthday because he doesn't feel well, I really mean it when I say it's OK. I love him more than I love myself, so it's OK. I still got Chipotle for dinner, and the most thoughtful card and gift from my hot husband. And I had more birthday wishes than I could have ever deserved.
It's been the best year,