The Big 3-5

Today is my birthday. Thirty-five years ago I arrived on the scene (that would be the scene c.1975) to change my parents' lives forever. Haha!

Now that I'm a mom myself, I realize what a big deal a birthday is to a parent. Your kids birthdays often mean more to you than your own. No wonder my mom has already called me twice today (and it's only 3:15, so there's plenty of time for another call tonight...). As a matter of fact, she usually calls me at 8:45 a.m., the exact time I was born. Today, she restrained herself until 9:15, but only because she was already on the phone with someone else at 8:45.


My college friends still tease me about the time she called me at 7 a.m. my freshman year and sang "Happy Birthday" over the phone. Needless to say, I wasn't real thrilled. I promptly went back to bed and slept through my first two classes.

But now I understand. I remember everything about the days my son and daughter were born. The weather, the ride to the hospital, the exact time of their birth. Who the nurses were & what my doctor wore, what I ate after the delivery, all of these details are ingrained into you on the day you give birth to your child.

And that's the part of being a mom that no one can tell you about. You have to experience it for yourself. You are truly a changed person when you have a child, and on my birthday I think I owe it to my mom and dad to just say "Thanks." Thanks for giving up everything you loved for awhile and putting me first. Thank you for providing for me, for supporting me and for tolerating me when I made stupid mistakes because I didn't listen, and when I succeeded on my own merits and knew it.

Oh, and because most of you come here because of the vintage angle, I happen to share my birthday with someone you may have heard of: Glenn Miller (b.1903).