Yes, it's my birthday.

I turned 38 today.

Yesterday, we had a celebratory Community Dinner, though the festivities were tempered somewhat by SiSi's continued illness. Preparation for the dinner was hectic all day, especially for my wife, and after dinner didn't get any less chaotic. I didn't even get to open my cards until the girls were well into the bedtime routine!

Maeve apologized yesterday, and WN did today, that my birthday was less than special. I think WN, particularly, hoped I'd get to enjoy more of the weekend than I did. Here's what I explained to Maeve, though: To me, a good birthday is when I get to live life and be happy in the company of people I love, and who love me. I did that. I got to grill for the house and extended chosen family. I love to do that! We all ate together outside, and there was lots of food. I got to have some quality time with Maeve, Caleb and Bess. I got to play games with KatieKathryn (6 well-played games of Pass the Pigs). I even got to do a little woodworking and check an item off my summer work list (I replaced the top on our picnic table)*. This is a quality day, by any of my standards, and let's be clear: The title of last year's post** nothwithstanding, I don't need (and rarely care for) a day that is all about me. I appreciate attention, sure, but really all I need is just to know I'm loved. A hug and kiss are good, tell me you love me, take a second sausage from the grill if you like them. Tell me you love me again. I really like to hear that a lot!

It was a good day. I'm happy. I'm 38.

* I checked one item off from that list to add another: Replace the bottom of the picnic table, which I discovered was rotted from age, water damage and ants. Figures.

** I never replied to the one comment from that post, but I'll smile coyly now and say, "Come back here and find out!"