It's my birthday.

On this day last year I was being spoiled with a trip to Tiffany's in NYC and a delicious Brooklyn pizza with mi familia.

Two years ago I was wined and dined at a shmancy Manhattan restaurant with my husband.

Three years ago I celebrated while preggers in paradise with the desperate housewives and some of the best roommates a girl could have.

Four years ago was my last pre-baby birthday, and those fantastic roommates and I did tapas and drinks in jolly old England.

Five years ago I turned thirty in Toronto, complete with dirty martinis and some truly wonderful friends.

And the list goes on. 35 years of birthday bliss.

When I heard a sleepy little voice croak "Happy Birthday Mama!" this morning, followed by a warm and squishy just-woke-up hug, I knew it would be a good day. This year I've had a homemade cake from mom, two birthday celebrations, loads of presents, a birthday brunch and that was all before I woke up this morning.

Happy birthday to me. And big birthday hugs to my parents, my in-laws, all of my friends and family, and especially that husband and daughter of mine. You have made this birthday week just delicious. 

Did I mention I got another handbag?