The Icing On The Cake

Today is my birthday.  When I was little (see above), I loved my birthday.  (Every child should be able to say as much).  My birthday was magic, exciting, and full of surprises.  On my birthday, I was made to feel truly special. 

I still embrace this day each year.  Thankfully, I have not become a grizzled grown-up who dreads getting older (yet).  But the specialness of the occasion has changed a bit.  No longer do I have a sleepover with a dozen of my closest friends, wear a construction paper crown, or blow out candles on a cartoon character cake.  Like so many things, the joys of childhood have been replaced with more mature versions of bliss.  There are still plenty of indulgences through which I peek over the table and stick my finger in the frosting of life…  

Jewelry, for instance. 


And of course, the almighty champagne.

Tonight, I raise my glass in a toast to the people responsible for all that specialness I felt as a child.  To my mother and father, who ordered the cartoon cakes, fastened the makeshift crown, and were kept awake long into the night by the muffled conversations of a dozen giggling pre-teens.  My birthday is a big reminder — but there are subtle hints every day — that my childhood was made beautiful by two individuals who ask for no gratitude, and yet I can never seem to thank them enough.

— Bridget

These Magic Moments

I had a lot of time to think about my resolutions this year, yet failed to come up with anything concrete.*  (*This opening sentence could also be described as “The Story Of My Life.”).  Now that we are a week into 2012, I feel like I’ve gotten a better idea of the look and feel of the next 359 days, and I’m therefore more confident about what I want to do with them.  The end result — my resolution — is to find the magic in every day. 

The picture above illustrates what I mean, and fittingly, it was taken on the eve of 2012.  On the one hand, you see the everyday details of life – the makeup bag, the curlers, the extremely classy Miller Lite glass filled with tap water.  Just a husband and wife sitting down to dinner.  And yet, look again.  The tux, the wine, the crab legs I am clumsily attacking; the warmth and glow of the room, the animated faces, the anticipation of the evening ahead.  Magic. 

This year, I vow to embrace every day in the same way that I embrace wine and writing and friends and all of the other great things about being alive… Because there is magic in every moment, if I can only teach myself to take that second look.