Here I am, in all my 5(?)-year-old glory.
I turned 38 yesterday. As my aunt put it, "it's just some silly little number". The number itself definitely loses significance as you get older. Turning 10 was exciting, wasn't it? 13, 16, 21....so many milestones in childhood. After that....eh. It's just a number. Even 30 felt anti-climactic.
I do enjoy birthdays, though. My birthday was a Monday this year (bleh). It was a cold, blustery Monday, and I had to work (double bleh). But I started the day with hugs and "happy birthdays" from my three favorite boys. I walked downstairs to see the flowers on the table, I put a little new perfume on my wrist, and I opened cards. I received several phone calls and even more emails throughout the day.
Then the Facebook messages began. In this age of social networking, it's easy to reach out and wish a happy birthday to someone that you may not see very often. As the recipient, it's nice to know that you're being thought of. Family, friends, neighbors....all shouting a little "happy birthday" in my direction. It's nice.
38 isn't that different from 37 - not at all, really. It's only slightly different from 28. I'm a little more tired, and my knees ache a bit more, but nothing really to complain about. It makes me optimistic about 48.