It's 3:36 in the afternoon and I'm listening to Pink blaring somewhere in my house while my youngest is on a cleaning tear. He organizes and unclutters to loud music.
On magical days it happens like that for no apparent reason.
It's 3:36 in the afternoon and I'm wearing my Princess Dress and a birthday tiara, one my daughter got at her friend's baby sister's princess party eons ago.
On magical days that happens for good reason.
Over the weekend, some life-friends are pulling into town to celebrate my birthday, friends who have trudged life's battles with us, battles splattered in laughter and tears and sometimes even blood. Births of babies–those are the best of times. Deaths of parents–those are the worst.
We know we're older than when we met, not because of the pounds we've added or the salt and peppering of our hair or even that the year has changed 20 times or so, but because we've watched our babies be born and roll over and toddle and walk and run…
right out our damned front door.
I blame it on my trip to the Hallmark store today, a detour on my way to Sephora to pick up a fun little birthday gift. A clearance sign is a magnet to my
soul, I'm helpless moth to irresistable light. "Quip Flops"–have you ever?!–$4.95 down from $16 I think, and I had to have them.
So I picked up a pair for me and a few friends, a perfect surcie, just because.
The lady thought it was funny I was instagramming pictures, so she showed me something she had just instagrammed.
A redneck wine glass. Two different redneck wine glasses and a redneck margarita glass. Oh, they were choice, and a Southerner knows why without taking offense.
I rounded the corner of the aisle when whoa, Nellie!–birthday threw up on me!
I suppose I have heightened sensitivity to birthday right now–my husband just celebrated his, my youngest and my mother-in-law have theirs the week after mine, and, well…mine falls over the weekend.
Sometimes adult birthday paraphenelia is plain tacky or trashy, and I wouldn't have any of it. But Amy's Hallmark Store right here in Chattanooga at Hamilton Place? They had good birthday stuff…
So of course I proceeded to arrange a vignette to take more pictures.
Which is precisely when my phone decided to die.
Far be it for me to be stopped by a silly dead cell battery when I'm on a roll; by now I had made friends with Megan and Linda, Amy's Hallmark Store's fantastic shop girls. It's not the least bit surprising I was compelled to ask a stranger-until-10-minutes-ago if I could borrow a phone to take pictures. I had gone to all that work to stage a picture and I wasn't about to let that go to waste…!
When I promised to put everything back in its place, Megan handed over her phone.
I was just about to return Megan's phone when I noticed a birthday hat surpassed in its spectacularity only by Dumbledore's Sorting Hat—
It didn't take much encouragement for me to try it on.
Well, I figured poor Linda and Megan had had enough of me, so I paid for my Quip Flops and headed out the door.
And I'll be darned if the Birthday Glasses under the edge of the counter didn't SCREAM AT ME to notice them!
Megan got out her cell phone before I could ask.
Y'all…they light up! How fun is that??
Some people would say this, the Princess Dress in public, all of it is a pathetic cry for attention.
I understand that, I do, but no matter what it looks like I know what's stirring on the inside.
For me, this is a little thing that makes me happy.
For me, this is life celebration.
For me, this is the outside matching my inside, girls just wanna have fun, seizing a moment.
For me, this is my soul knowing it very well, that I am wonderfully made…just the way I am.
For me, this is the age I feel.
This is me, acting my age.
Anything less is soul defeating, life sucking, spirit deflating, counter to how I'm created…and absolutely unacceptable.
I got home and put on my birthday shoes, which in turn, prompted me to try on my Princess Dress to make sure it fits for a fun dinner out this weekend. My friends have been warned.
No matter what they look like, new shoes are magical.