Historically, my birthday has always been a reason for some kind of adventure. A reason to get out of the house, try something new, go somewhere new, to do something. And, because it falls in the middle of June, the end result has usually led to something outdoors.
Last year on my birthday I had a 2 week old baby at home and could barely move following a caesarean, so needless to say my birthday went by largely uncelebrated (although I will say that watching my human bake and frost cupcakes was quite entertaining…and sweet). Couple that with the events of 2020 as a whole and the general demise of spontaneous adventures that happen when there’s no tiny human in tow, and you can imagine how jazzed I was to pack everything up and sleep in a tent somewhere (anywhere) for my birthday this year.
However, life happened.
And that’s ok.
That’s what I learned from this birthday – that’s ok. Life isn’t as simple as it was B.B. (Before Baby). When the camping trip started to unravel from all ends I was admittedly upset. But, as I treated myself to a patio beer at a local brewery before daycare pick up, it occurred to me that this is my first “adult” birthday.
Not to make this sound as if I’ve reached my birthday “peak” but let’s be honest; the more you add to your daily plate, the less time and energy you have for spontaneous things (say…grand birthday adventures). 38 years was a pretty good run. And you know what?
That’s ok.
So yesterday I sat beneath a tree, beer in hand, watching my son discover the joy of throwing sticks for the dogs while a burro with no personal space stood over us and a storm rolled in from the north. I contemplated where I might’ve been if this were 3 years ago and compared it to the present. While it’s certainly a different picture (and one I was not prepared to embrace so abruptly), the picture is full of simplicity, fulfillment and contentment.
And that’s more than ok.
Here’s to modified birthdays y’all. Cheers.
Dirtbag Cowgirl 