Happy Birthday to 43-Year-Old Me

By Terri Linton

My son yanked at my arm as he does in the early hours of every morning. I slid lazily out of bed, dragged myself to the kitchen to set the coffee maker, and poured Cheerios into his small snack bowl. During our shower, we filled and re-filled the openings of his building blocks with water and poured it out. Another of our morning rituals.

By 9:30 a.m., I was sitting under the dryer with big multi-colored plastic rollers in my hair listening to Bachata while leisurely scrolling through a digital edition of Us Weekly. The next stop was to the florist to buy my annual Christmas poinsettia. And then home to finally catch missed episodes of The Girlfriend’s Guide to Divorce.

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Source: More Fitness

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