Fifty Years Old!

My long Facebook post:

I typically don't tell people when it's my birthday, but as I sit here with only minutes (41 to be exact) left of my forties, I feel the need to point it out. At 3:02 a.m. on October 5, 1967, it will be exactly 50 years since my arrival on this earth. I was the third of 6 children. At the time of my birth, my parents lived in San Jose, California and had a 2-year-old son (Luke) and a 1-year-old daughter (Effie).  I can only imagine how overwhelmed, tired and apprehensive they must have felt once they realized I was coming to join the family. Apparently, I was 2 weeks overdue (sorry Mom), but thanks to the delay, I've been able to spend a couple of extra weeks as a 49-year-old. I'm hoping this decade is a good one, it's certainly starting out on a positive note. The moon is full, which happens to be one of my favorite things and my favorite number is 5 (50 years, 5 decades, born on the 5th, I have 5 kids, etc.). I've lived half a century. Counting leap years, that's just over 18,262 days. That's a lot of days. Some of those days have been awesome, some crappy and a whole lot of those days were somewhere between the two. My fingers are crossed that my oldest daughter who is 9 months pregnant will give birth sometime before midnight tomorrow to my 4th grandchild, a little girl who is going to be named Evelyn. That would be the perfect birthday present (no pressure Kylie, just hoping!). I've been dreading this particular birthday for quite a while and a few days ago a wise person named Jared reminded me that birthdays should be celebrated, not avoided, especially as I get older. I'm not a great housekeeper, I weigh more than I wish I did and my organizational skills aren't the best but I have a lot to be thankful for.