Happy Birthday to Me - now do we start over with counting days, or keep going?

365 days ago, I was born. Where has the time gone? What was I doing a year ago today, you must be asking yourself? Furthermore, what have you spent the last year doing?

Maybe you met all four sets of your quarterly goals, and your portfolio increased its value. Maybe you are among the dozen or so women I know to give birth in the past year. Maybe you became a dad for a second time. Or you ran a marathon. Or you survived yet another Chicago winter. Or you passed your PhD comps. Or you started your own private law practice. These are all noble accomplishments, and I commend you for them.

But at the end of the day, are they anything compared to:

1. adjusting to life outside of a womb
   
2. learning to breathe through the mouth and nose
   
3. learning to eat through the mouth
4. learning to scream
5. learning to drink from a cup
6. learning to stand up
7. growing teeth
8. growing hair, getting it cut, and growing it back
9. sleeping 11 hours in a row on a regular basis
10. moving to the Classic City
11. sitting in the bathtub by myself
12. eating hundreds of Cheerios, one at a time
    
13. smiling and laughing on demand
14. occasionally eating rocks

The answer is clearly in the negative. So to celebrate my superiority, we had a little birthday party. Grandpa and YaYa came down for the festivities. Riotous it was indeed.

The birthday cupcakes mom made:
















Going,
















going,
















gone.