Happy Birthday to Us?

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My husband and I share a birthday (in fact it’s tomorrow!) It’s one of the things I’ve loved most about us, that we get to share our special day with each other.
Sunday I learned that it’s not something he enjoys at all.
We were having our weekly after-Mass coffee and doughnuts in the church hall when I over heard him say to a friend, “It seems like it would be cool, but what ends up happening is that it’s really her birthday and mine gets forgotten.”
I moved away from them to give him space to talk to his friend, but his words have stuck with me. After a while, my indignant “that’s so not true!” gave way to an honest admission that it really is

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I’m the 40-something-ish wife of my beloved Computer Guy. I’m the adoring and incredibly proud mom of nine children…two saints…seven in training. I’m my brothers’ sister and my parents’ daughter. I’m a devout Catholic, an avid political junkie, able debater, aspiring home-maker, amazing friend, and I make the meanest Chicken Fried Steak you’ll ever have the pleasure of eating. I’m a homeschooling guru, a writing addict, a sometimes public-speaker, and an advocate for staying true to the person God created you to be. I can’t live in a house with white walls, sing Billy Joel songs while I wash the dishes, will read anything you put in my hands, and am completely obsessed with rhinestones and cute shoes. I am just like moms the whole world over, and then some.

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