The Dancing Queen turns 43 ... still young and sweet

Today was my 43rd birthday. I LOVE GROWING OLDER! I can't say it enough. I know it's not the common thing to say when one turns older. I'm supposed to go on about about "one more wrinkle," or "another year; another gray hair." Psh!

Save it. God has given me another day on this earth and it's worthy of celebrating. That goes for all you goons who want your birthdays to pass by without notice. Pardon me, but I love my friends and family. So, if I want to make a big deal out of the anniversary of the day you were born it's my prerogative. Hmmph. And if I want to tell strangers on the street that it's my birthday I will. You can't stop me.

Today was welcomed with many kind wishes and emoticons with online friends. E-cards were joyfully opened in my mailbox. Myspace, Stuck in the 80s and Pop Life bloggers wished me happy birthday. I FEEL THE LOVE! For the moment I felt like a celebrity.

My sister Mary sent a text inviting us to lunch. We broke bread and ate cake with her daughters Amanda, Aubrey and Elyssa. Joining in was yesterday's birthday girl. My sister Maureen. And naturally Man-cub came along.

I came home to even more emails from well wishers. A phone call came from a friend who sang the birthday song to me. I giggle and thanked him. Then asked, "who is this?" I didn't recognize the number. Old age, ya know.

Did I mention I feel like a superstar? While shuffling around online -- actually trying to figure out why Flashplayer wasn't working -- my phone rang. It was my big brother Rick calling. He'd sent me an e-card, but it was doubly nice to hear his voice. I love talking to my bro. He often manages to put things in a perspective that helps me feel better or see more clearly.

While on the phone with Rick, I got another incoming call. The cell rang first. It was work. CURSES! It's my birthday, people! Leave me alone. Then, the other line beeped. It was work, but bro was calling long distance. I had to cut our call short as we needed to bolt in order to get to the movie theater to see "MAMMA MIA!"

We met my sister Maureen, her friend Kris, my nephew, Kris's daughter and two other young ladies. Again, Man-cub was in tow. What a fantastic and fitting movie for me to see on my birthday. It encompasses everything I love: singing, dancing, romance, beautiful locales, hot men, charming women. I admit to probably being annoying as I sang nearly every song. The theater wasn't packed. Popcorn was free!

What surprised me most was the stream of tears that ran down my cheeks when this scene came on:

It's an unlikely portion of the movie to cry over. We were tearful during obvious spots (I won't give it away, but my sister is seeing her eldest off to college in a couple weeks . We sat hand in hand crying together.)

So, you ask why would I cry during Dancing Queen? I say it because I revisited the dancing queen within at my class reunion. There's something so freeing about dancing and not caring if anyone thinks I look good doing it. I truly danced as if no one was watching that night. I let the music take me to places the margaritas didn't.

When we arrived home I checked messages. The call that I didn't' take from work wasn't work related. Three of my co-workers, Jennifer; Scott and Stephanie called to sing. Their version of "Happy Birthday" was a colorful, multi-tiered, cacophony of joy. I got weepy because, once again, I felt so special.

I'm the birthday card lady at work. I buy the cards and make sure everyone gets a chance to sign a personal greeting. So, it's an exceptional compliment that they went an extra mile for me. I'm rather happy they left a message. I saved it. I'll go listen to it again ... a few times in the next 21 days the message is available.

With all the amazing greetings, well wishes and colorful tunes sent my way, I have to admit that nothing else tops the first and mostly important gift received today. My sleepy headed 14 year old Man-cub clomped down the stairs this morning and said, "Good morning. Happy Birthday, Mom."

He remembered my birthday. No calls prodded him. No hints.

Without fail the Man-cub establishes that he's the gift from Heaven that keeps on giving. Thanks God. You did right by me when you gave me my little boy. I'll be eternally grateful.