Last year it was 40. That was cool. Nice round number. A good excuse for a party. Life begins at 40. And all that.
This year. 41.
It's just older. But, it beats the alternative.
Harry asked me yesterday if there was anyway I could avoid turning 41 today.
I told him only if I died.
"That's no good," he said thoughtfully. "Couldn't you just turn 10 or something?"
But the thing is I don't want to be 10 again. I've been 10. 10 was fine. I liked my life at 10. But I like my life now. Correction: I love my life now. I love my husband and my kids and the life I have. I wouldn't trade that again for a chance to still have my teen years in front of me.
I've done 10. Now I'm going to do 41.
So, I'm off the computer for the rest of the day, to celebrate my birthday with my family.