I'm 44 years old today. When I was 4 . . .
. . . and even 14 . . .
. . . birthdays were an exciting prospect!
I would say that now I pretty much forget about my birthday until a couple of days before, and then I anticipate it with a pleasant content. I know my guys will insist on my not doing any housework (I didn't even make my bed this morning--hubby did it for me!), will take me out to dinner or make me a special meal, and will buy me the little frivolous things I don't think to want or ask for at any other time. I always know, too, that I will celebrate with my dad (whose b-day is the day before mine) and any other family members who are around.
It's just all very pleasant! Nothing to be all hyper about like when I was a child, and nothing to despair over like I temporarily did when I was turning forty.
Content. It's a nice place to be. Whatever I regret from the past, whatever I waste my time fearing in the future . . .
. . . today I am content with today.