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I'm typically ambivalent about my birthday.  Another year older, another year to reflect on, and I carry on as usual.  But today, today was all different.  On a cluster f%&k scale of 0 to 10, this reached a goat roping 8.  By 12:30 I'd done more crying than I do in a normal year, kicked off by an angry Genevieve who wanted to invite her friends home from preschool and then threw a record tantrum when she didn't get her way. 

I was already feeling a little raw from my earlier read of her upcoming kindergarten orientation flier over morning coffee - Fleetwood Mac lyrics cycling through my head:

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I, I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too...

I picked up our broken pieces by mid-afternoon and was laughing with my daughters by the time Drew came home from work.  He brought me flowers, cooked my favorite meal of scallops and fresh linguine with pesto, and topped it all off with a reese's peanut butter cup over vanilla ice cream. 

Phone calls, notes, emails and facebook love flowed all day, and on this particular tear filled day, I really needed it.  Thanks, nearest and dearest.