When I hear friends and colleagues talk about their inner circle, I think of my family.

In the midst of discussing cake preferences for my Dad’s 80th, we’re also eagerly awaiting the arrival of two babies.

You have such a big family. A friend once messaged in a return text.

I’d sent her a picture of our latest family member.

Replace yourself.

This was my Mum’s motto about having children. Her two daughters and our cousins have followed in these footsteps.

Most months there’s a birthday to celebrate.

How would you like to celebrate your birthday this year?

What are we doing for his birthday?

Who’s making the cake?

Has she given you an idea of what she wants?

What do you want me to bring?

Can my girls make cupcakes? Do you promise to eat one?

Birthday rituals are how we share our love and thanks for each other.

Thoughtfully written birthday cards adorned with sentimental treasures.

Presents from local makers discovered during visits to coastal or country towns.

Carefully selected books based on recommendations or hunches.

Hand cream that’s opened and shared amongst us as we chat.

Birthday cards filled with 50 dollar notes.

Did you know some people don’t cook for their families?

A random early morning question from my husband.

I shrug. I don’t dwell on what others may or may not do.

He’d spent the previous weekend meal planning, food shopping, prepping and cooking for our family birthday lunch.

My son and I are two of a number of our May babies.

A kitchen table filled with our favourite dishes is his love language.

I am thankful for the gift of my family.

Image source: Storiès

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