Over the years, I have perfected the art of the birthday week. When I was younger, I lived for my birthday. I loved the party, the gifts, basically the very superficial and selfish aspects of being born. In my family, birthdays are a big deal. My parents always made a big deal out of our birthdays getting woken up with the birthday song (sung in perfect harmony ,might I add), a present before you went to school, a special dinner of your choice on which you got to eat  off  THE BIRTHDAY PLATE, and then more gifts and cake. Birthdays are fond memories for me and my siblings because my parents made sure to tell us just how special we were and how thankful they were that we were thier children.

Being born on September 1st has its advantages. For one, I have a “late birthday” meaning I started school a whole year early.  When most kids in kindergarten were getting ready to turn 6, I turned 5 just a week into school. I’ve always been the youngest of all my friends. But along with being the baby of the group, my brithday always falls on or near Labor Day meaning I get a 3 day weekend to celebrate. I love that because it’s perfect to  take a trip to the beach with the family or visit friends or what have you.

But I’ve always loved being able to spread out the festivities. As I’ve gotten older, I count myself lucky to have a 3 day weekend where I can enjoy friends and family equal parts. This year, my birthday is on Thursday. So, dinner with friends Thursday night is in order, along with dinner with coworkers Friday night, then a trip to see the family and friends back home on Saturday and Sunday followed by a day at the lake on Monday. Now, thats how you do it…

I love being able to see everyone and enjoy all the company. I truely am blessed by some wonderful friends and family. As birthdays continue to roll around and the number keeps getting higher and higher, I’m just thankful to be so blessed.

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