Earlier today, I posted a picture I just couldn't live with. Sure, my nephew was cute in it, but even he looked a little, well, strange. Austin was born on my 32nd birthday--talk about an awesome birthday gift. When he arrived, I had myself been in the driver's seat, so to speak, twice, but I had never witnessed how amazing birth is. I also saw shooting stars, but I think that was from the migraine I was getting that day. Who knows. Maybe it was just the wonder of it all.
I like this self-potrait better. This is what I look like, encroaching wrinkles and all. (Well-earned wrinkles at that.) I try not to spend too much time worrying about aging, or getting too chubby. Life is short, and really, what is the alternative? I hope I will eventually become a wise old lady instead just a smarty-pants. Tis good.
So, happy birthday Austin. It's a good day to be born.