Thirty-six

Me at seven. I love my gap-toothed grin and wonderful posture in this picture.



Yup, it's that time of year again. It's the time of year when I usually get really depressed for no reason and feel sorry for myself. That was the case last year.

Not sure why I get so moody on my birthday, but this year? None of that. Which surprises me, because I'm laid off, underemployed, and money has been tight—Pete has had his of hours cut, too. And now with the baby on its way, I often lay in bed at night, worrying about the future and what I'll do when unemployment runs out, hopefully something which I won't have to worry about til next year (please please please give me an extension, IDES!).

But things just seem rosier now for some reason. I think there are many reasons for that. The fact that I'm no longer working at a job that I've HATED for the last few years is one. The fact that I'm starting to mix things up with my freelance work and continue to do what I love, at home. The fact that I get to work at home (for now), preparing for the future, for when I am taking care of our little bean and so lucky to be able to spend my time with him/her. And that's one of the biggest facts of all: the little bean. I've droned on and on about how wonderful life is with the baby coming and with something meaningful to look forward to, but I gotta tell ya, it's true. It does change so much, and he/she isn't even here yet.

True, my health still isn't wonderful. A lot of that has to do with being preggers, and I think that tends to distract me from the fact that there are still underlying health issues that I'll have to deal with once the baby is born. But again, I have the opportunity to raise a child, love them, teach them, laugh and cry with them, and of course, lose lots and lots of sleep. But it's all worth it.

I also just feel more comfortable in my own skin. The fact that Pete still finds me pretty when I have a face full of acne (thanks, hormones), or that he calls me Sexy Bear in my pregnant state and actually finds me attractive (yet cute with the tummy and all), does a lot for me confidence-wise. So does the fact that I don't care if I have 2 readers of my blog, or 22 readers, or whatever; my blog is for me, and for those who care to see how I am or what's bugging me or what's making me (or them) laugh. So does the fact that I can have fun with my camera and try new things and play as if I were a little kid again—albeit, a kid with an expensive and complicated camera. So does the fact that I have a loving family and friends who never notice when I've put on 10 pounds (well, until now, lol) or when my hair is misbehaving (almost daily) or when something isn't fitting quite right. They do notice when I'm not feeling my best, and they are always there to help me feel better, offer advice, make me laugh...whatever it takes.

So, to cut this ramble short, I just wanna say that 36 is looking pretty darn good. Yeah, it's on an average weekday, and not on the usual holiday weekend it falls on 3/4 of the time (grrr). Sure, I have no particular plans today and we'll probably just eat meatloaf I plan on making for dinner. And yes, life will go on as always, trudging (or leaping or rushing or tip-toeing) toward 37, then 38, and beyond. And I'm cool with that. I haven't been able to say that for several years, but I definitely feel it this time around.

Happy Wednesday, September 2nd, everyone!