"Age is an issue of mind over matter, if you don't mind, it doesn't matter." —Mark Twain
Happy birthday to me!
On Wednesday, I celebrated the big 4-5, as well as one of many extraneous reasons I love being a teacher.
Can I just say, kids LOVE celebrating their teacher's birthday!
As I walked into school Wednesday, I was greeted by homemade cards, flowers from yards, cookies with sprinkles, and chocolate (which is why I will not be reporting any major weight loss updates this month).
I have never been one to bemoan my yearly tradition of showing the world I have graciously lived through another year—a year filled with heart-to-heart talks with friends, adventures with family, love and heartache.
In fact, I welcome that annual celebration of my life! On my birthday, I celebrated the people in my life with a "gratitude party." Although my students did not attend—there were elements of this party suitable for an "R" rated crowd only—I am truly grateful for each and every one of them.
There are many teachable moments in the classroom and celebrating one's birthday is one.
Some adults are weird about sharing their age, shunning students' curiosity when that inevitable question of "How old are you?" comes their way. I proudly stand tall. "I am 45 today," I say.
Some adults will not respond in kind and may suggest that their inquiry can be interpreted as "rude."
"Why?" one of my students asks.
"Well, because it's something personal that some don't feel they need to share."
"Well, that's silly," another student adds.
Perhaps, but I'm hoping that not all adults over the age of 29 feel their lives are headed for the dump.
Sure, I have wrinkles and laugh lines. I've earned the topographical map on my face and only those who are closest to me know the history of how they got there, and how to navigate it.
I love celebrating other people's birthdays, too.
It's that once-a-year opportunity to buy a Hallmark card that says exactly what you would have liked to come out of your mouth.
It also reminds me of the day we all came to be in the first place.
Recently, I was blessed to be a part of my oldest brother's first child being born— an experience he never dreamed he would have.
I was fortunate to be in the room with my brother and his fiance for the birth of my niece last weekend after many hours of labor. This new baby girl is named "Ella" after our mom.
This is only the second Mother's Day without my mom, who died 16 months ago. It was symbolic that this little girl was born on Mother's Day. The experience helped me transform a day I associated with grief into a day filled with hope.
Who knew a "birth" day could be so amazing, from the day you are brought into this world to the annual celebration of your life and those in it.
Birthdays. Gotta love 'em. I hope you enjoy yours. I know I did mine.