Isn't it amazing that sometimes the smallest things, perhaps things that we take for granted can bring us the most happiness. It was my birthday on Sunday and I was delighted to be able to spend the day with my family. We didn't do anything other than enjoy each other's company. We all went and watched Matthew participate in Little Kickers, I marvelled at how much he has improved since starting in September.
Then we went for a picnic at a local park, the children had great fun playing on the bits and bobs and running about enjoying the facilities. There were the sounds of people having fun, the day was warm and bright and as I watched Lucy endeavouring to crawl up a grassy bank, grass staining her new shoes I realised that this was what life was all about. My best birthday present this year (other than the new iphone of course) was spending time with the family.
We topped the picnic off with a visit to the garden centre where we all chose new plants for the border in the front of the house. This perhaps was made all the more pertinent when Mr T had to work through his birthday. The children spent time on Monday making him a cake;
I served breakfast in bed and then the cards and presents followed. As he left for work we all felt a little deflated and as we sang Happy Birthday to him as loudly as possible in the vain hope that our out of tune singing was penetrating the office windows. Sometimes we take it all for granted and perhaps the two contrasting birthdays have helped to sharpen the mind.