I was going to make a list of presents a newly 33-year-old mother of six-year-old twins would actually want for her birthday, since presents are nice and all, but these days usually aren't what I really need.
But I got it all. Seriously.
Yesterday was my birthday, and yesterday:
- The garbage disposal was fixed and the sink unclogged. Huzzah! No more hand washing precariously in one side of the sink while increasing grossness built up no matter what I did on the other side! No more scraping food scraps and uneaten, soggy cereal into a bag and putting it out to roast in the Florida sun inside a black trash bin.
- I wrote a 1,200-word piece for the print edition of the Washington Post. One of my favorite things is being in real print.
- Speaking of, I picked up two copies of Backpacker Magazine Jul/Aug 2015, where an as-told-to survival story I wrote is on page 49. My first national glossy! Yay!
- I had a science story publish in another awesome magazine. One I had been trying to sell for a while.
- My husband came home from work with glittery wrapping paper, a cake, and a mini-bottle of champagne to celebrate.
- My kids and husband threw me the best party. They wrapped one gift each (pearls!, a Calvin Klein purse!, a hair styling gift certificate!). They sang me happy birthday. They ate cake with me.
- The girls did not fight or cry or whine or be annoying once during the whole thing!!!!!
- The girls, while they were supposed to be getting ready for bed, made me a PINATA, out of paper, tape, and some Hershey's Kisses, had their daddy hold it, and let me whack it with a sword...and IT WORKED.
Anyway, last year, on my 32nd birthday, I was going viral for an essay I wrote for the Washington Post. My first ever for a paid publication. I was giving interviews, and fielding phone calls, and trying to hold on as my life took a sharp--radically sharp--right turn from where it had been heading.
I'm still on that path, and so far, so good. It's been a phenomenal year, and this one will be too.