Last week Ben convinced me that we needed a pinata for my birthday party. I assured him that we had a cake and a special day planned already, but he insisted. This is the mind of the seven year old, one planning his next birthday just as soon as the last guest leaves from his current party.
On Saturday I took the boys most of the day to run some errands, promising them that good behavior would result in a pinata purchase. *Note to self, do not tell Ben and Ian that you don't care what pinata they pick out. You will go home with the best of the Party City $Mo Money$ collection.
We stayed in the store trying on crazy hats and laughing our butts off. Ben was particularly interested in the 80's party gear. He asked me if he could buy a Micheal Jackson sequined glove with his tooth fairy money. Sure, but you are not taking it to school.
In addition to the pinata, they also talked me into buying hats and moustaches for the party.
I had a great birthday. We went to church, to the State Farmers Market Restaurant for hush puppies and pancakes for the boys and a veggie plate of collard greens, pintos with chow chow, and grits with country ham gravy. Serious comfort food yum. Afterwards we hit up one of our favorite area parks. We stayed at Pullen Park for almost two hours playing on a warmish, sunny winter day.
Once home, we had birthday cake, (my favorite Orange Cremsicle from Sugar Mama's) and pulled out the pinata. The boys could have cared less that we filled it with existing leftover Halloween and Christmas candy. They karate chopped, kicked, and hit every last bit of candy out of it. The entire downstairs was covered in green streamers and the last vestiges of poor Benjamin Franklin.
I had plans to meet up for a late dinner with a friend that has a birthday tomorrow. We had a chance to catch up and enjoy a little adult conversation and I wrapped up the night watching the new HBO series True Detective.
As I start the last year of my 30s, I think about what I want for this year. I realized that 19 days into 2014 that I never really posted goals or resolutions. They are much the same of most years: work to be on time, cognizant of my choices about health, eating, exercise, and sleep. I want to make the time I have with Ben and Ian count. I want to continue choosing reading over mindless tv watching with a goal of 50 books by year end. Thinking before I speak in anger continues into the new year, again. My weekly floral budget continues with plans for a pickup tomorrow and stealth bouquet for someone at work. Other goals are amorphous and need to be reflected on and considered in my own head. I want to make the last year of my 30s count as a set up for a positive next decade.
The numbers 41 and 43 weigh heavily on my mind as they are the ages at which my parents were diagnosed with diabetes. While I know I am much healthier, it still seems like the deck is stacked against me. I see this year as one to reflect on what types of decisions I want to make about work, marriage, kids, and doing whatever I can to stave off illness into what I hope will be a long, long way in my future. I realize that I can live in fear, or I can take this year and any subsequent years and live for myself and my boys. I also realize that I can stand still this year, hoping and wishing for things to change, all the time knowing that I am the one who can start decisions for change now. I am reminded that small steps can drastically turn into large, life changing plans in a more positive direction.
May my 39th trip around the sun be filled with days filled with goodness and light. May I live the life of the one in my dreams or at least one that leaves me knowing that the next decade starts in the best possible place.
I just wanted to stare at the sun. Is that so wrong?
54 minutes ago