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?
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