35

I'm 35 years old today. 35.

35.

35.

Ok, it's time for me to get over that but it does have a different ring to it, doesn't it? If I weren't so busy right now, I'd probably find myself dwelling on what I have managed (or not managed) to accomplish in my whopping 35 years but then that might lead me to a mid-life crisis which I seriously couldn't afford these days.

It's a pivotal age at a pivotal time in my life where nothing seems definite and "the right life" is a bit illusive. I haven't been writing lately because we put our house on the market. If our house sells, we'll move. If it doesn't, we'll stay. It's as simple as that yet it's not the least bit uncomplicated.

From struggling with the emotional issues related to a potential move to the ridiculous logistics of hauling 3 kids out of the house at a moment's notice for house showings and the pure insanity of keeping our chaotic house in a state of appearing calm, clean and uncluttered is, at moments, exhilarating and adrenalin-inducing and, at others, sheer madness. I've decided to ban madness from my mind today because it is my birthday so I'm not going to let anything ruffle my feathers - if the wisdom of my years will allow me that strength. We'll see. Either way, as I live through another day celebrating and reflecting on my ever-distant birth, I hope to embrace this rare moment of calmness in my heart and appreciate how good my life is regardless of how hard it is.

I'm alive. I'm relatively happy and there is a lot of love in this house or in any house in which we find ourselves living.