It always freaks my mother out a little that her kids are as old as we are, because frankly, let's face it, that makes HER older. (Sorry mom...that's the fact.)
As her first born, and thus, her favorite (seriously, how much fun am I having here today?!) I got to have her all to myself for a whole 25 months. And then the rug was pulled out from underneath me and I had to share.
No matter where in the birth order we fell, we were told from the time we were babies, "You are beautiful, you are amazing, you are smart." As we have gotten older and asked about our childhood, my mother's standard answer has been, "I can't remember, but, you were all perfect." Utter lies, but we like to believe it.
And so although it is my birthday, as my friend Mary Jo reminds us on the birth of our kids birthday's, it was my mom's first BIRTH day. So thanks, Mama. For having me and all. For dealing with me as a teenager. For dealing with me as a pain in the ass adult. For being the keeper of many a secret.
I will celebrate for the day and toast you.