I turned 33 today. It’s the day I flew out of my mom’s vaj-jay-jay in Nigeria. It’s also my first birthday as a mom. And it’s for this very reason that the day I entered the world feels that much more important.
Ever since I turned 30, birthdays have served as nothing more than a reminder that I am getting older. But now that I have this new role as a mom, each year that I age will also be marked with more wisdom (and hopefully more grace). I am responsible for guiding my son Mylo through this scary, albeit beautiful shifting terrain called life.
On a note-so-deep note, I began my morning as I like to begin most birthdays: with a run. And that’s not always easy being that my birthday is in February, and it doesn’t help that New York City has been getting slammed by fierce weather this winter. Luckily it was almost 40 degrees out with the sun shining when we took a 4-mile run over the Brooklyn Bridge.
Last year, while preggers I ran on my birthday with Jason and our foster dog, Lucy. This year I ran with Jason and Mylo, which is an extra treat AND an extra workout pushing a 20 pound jogging stroller and a 16 pound baby! I made us a late breakfast (J did the dishes), and then Jason is taking me to dinner at Buttermilk Channel tonight. Never ate their before and they are known to have a pretty killer pecan pie sundae. So much for that run this morning!