As I write this essay, my birthday has come to a close. My husband is playing a few minutes on a hand held videogame. My children are fast asleep. The cat is doing things that cats do late at night. The day was nothing extraordinary, which made it wonderful. It was probably the best day ever, because it was so simple and in that simplicity, so very perfect.

Tonight, I held my daughter’s hand as she drifted off to sleep. I could almost feel how quickly her childhood is passing by. She’s five years old already. I remember when she was born as though it were last week. My own mother probably feels the same about the 40 “something” years I’ve be around. Sitting there, beside my daughter’s bed, I made myself commit that moment to memory and tuck it away to remember on the day she turns 18 and moves off to college.

Long ago, when I would look forward to my future, I didn’t necessarily see children as a part of it. Thankfully, the universe knew me far better than I knew myself. I have been blessed and honored to share my life with two such wonderful human beings that I lack the words to even begin to describe how much they mean to me. They are not perfect (who is?), but they are my babies.

So, I come here to gush, but not about anything in particular. I gush just that they are. I love my son and I love my daughter; differently, equally. I am so very happy that the universe is so very wise.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

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