February is my favorite month. It always has been not just because it's my birth month. Although, birthdays are super important to me. I think everyone should have one day a year that's all about them. I like that it's a weird-o with 28 days and the sole determiner of a leap year.
February is also over-booked, just like me. Grammys, occasionally a Super Bowl, Groundhog's Day, Valentine's Day, Black History Month. Busy, busy busy.
Last year my birthday was a really big deal because it was a reaffirmation that I had been a whole person before Riley and (gasp!) I am still my own separate person with birthdays and friends outside of motherhood.
February is a once a year reminder that the kids aren't the only ones who have have grown and changed. It's a busy, crazy, up-and-down reminder of where I've been and where I'm going. Or at least a reminder to consider it.
When I was single thinking about myself was part of any average day, but now it takes some special date on a calender to flip the lever that causes the train to jump to another track.
February, is it? Why hello again, me. You're looking older I do hope wiser too. In that case resume congratulating and berating yourself in turn. Job well done with the aging. Same time next year?