Un-birthday-ed?

Last year on my birthday, 6 months pregnant, sitting around with a group of friends, someone remarked,"Imagine, on your next birthday, you'll already be a mom!" The thought blew my mind - not just that I would be a a mom, but that I would be so far into it - 9/10 months - that I would actually be used to the idea. Then, it was hard to imagine. Today, being there, I can see why. I have come on such a journey in the past year, that my 29-going-on-30 self wouldn't recognize me.

I remember growing up thinking that my parents were so boring about their own birthdays. I mean, they never seemed to want any special presents, or parties, or any of the good stuff that comes with birthdays. To a child whose world revolved around shiny toys and Christmas lists, this was almost incomprehensible. If someone had asked me back then to make a list of gifts I wanted to receive on my birthdays over the next 30 years, it would have been easy.

But today, when I think about what I want most, it isn't something that can be wrapped up in a box with a bow. If I were to wish for something for my birthday it would be for Sebastian to never wheeze again. For him to be healthy and happy. For him to say "Mama." My idea of the perfect day is to spend as much time as possible with him and Alex. Even my party this weekend is more exciting as an opportunity to show him off than anything else.

Of course, I still took time out to do something special for myself - a massage, a pedicure (you know, the bare necessities), but even those pale in comparison to an afternoon by the lake with Sebi, or lounging in the family room with him, watching him play. So this birthday, I have come to the realization that my perfect day is the one I have every day.

Now THAT is a gift.