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All me, all the time

Today is my birthday. Growing up, birthdays were a big deal, and I continued the tradition with my boys (see posts in August, September and October ’bout birthday celebrations). Everyone gets Christmas or Hanukkah, but your birthday is the one day in the year you’re allowed to be selfish and wallow in the attention of others.

Me likey.

Aren’t I cute? It’s too bad they didn’t make things in color back then. Probably thought it would attract the dinosaurs.

My graduation picture, taken in August, 1979. As I’ve said before, the seventies were a magical time. I’d give body parts to be able to have hair like that again. Hair, I might add, that I hated with a white-hot burning passion. I’d also like my seventeen year old body back. Which, again, I hated for being so fat. If I weighed now what I weighed then, a choir of angels would sing and dance around me at all times.

Ahh, youth. So eager to prove we’re not kids, we blow through it as quickly as we can.

Soon enough you’ve had a few kids and this is your life – no make-up, double chin, bad spiral perm and all. And you’re looking back at photos of yourself thinking, “Why did I think I was so horribly fat and ugly? I wasn’t a beauty queen, but I don’t hurl looking at the pictures.”

But when it comes right down to it, would I change anything, really? Nah. Guess I’ll take the fat rolls, the thinning hair, and all the other indignities of aging since they mean I get to call these three sprogs my life’s work. 

Me likey.


4 Responses

  1. Happy Late birthday Jules! I hope you had a great day and were able to enjoy a nice b-day dinner.
    Love ya, Peter

  2. We sang Happy Birthday to you at oireachtas awards – wish you had been there to hear it! (Maddie made podium again just for your birthday present.)

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