My Biltmore Birthday

This is a little late-in-coming, but I wanted to expound upon my most wonderful 25th birthday present from Jim.

Saturday morning, Jim's parents came up to keep James all day. Jim and I left without a worry, knowing that James would be thoroughly provided with kisses and songs and care. We drove up to the Biltmore Estate, about an hour and half away, me positively GIDDY. Seriously, I was singing and giggling most of the way up there. Not only was I excited to go to Biltmore (the last time was in 3rd grade, I think) but I was free to turn my Momma Brain on low for a while. You can never really completely turn it off, I've found...

We arrived, toured the home, and finished with perfect timing to enjoy BBQ and Bluegrass music over at the winery. I just loved being able to hold my husband's hand as we walked, talk to him while simultaneously having eye contact, and sharing a neat time together saying, "Oo, look at that" and, "whoooa, that's cool".

We topped off the day by listening to the Gamecocks on the radio baaarely take a win. We arrived home to a happy boy and a dinner with Nonna and Poppa.

The trip was wonderful, yes, but on my birthday this year, I realize more clearly why we actually celebrate. The day of your birth is certainly a miracle. Even though it happens thousands upon thousands of times a day around the world, every birth is incredible. It's incredible for the mom, for the dad, for the child, for everyone. It's a day of meeting, of falling in love, of grieving for some. I think we celebrate because it's not just the day you were born, but it's the day you began.