01/30/2026
Reflections on a Midlife Birthday of this Pediatrician mom (aka: Math Is Hard)
It’s my birthday today.
I’m turning 45.
Again.
This is technically my second time celebrating it. 🎈
This time last year, life was… chaotic. As in massive-house-fire-on-January-16th chaotic. We were in full survival mode, living day-to-day, and clearly not prioritizing things like basic arithmetic.
One day shortly after the fire, before my birthday, while in clinic, my dear friend and practice manager, Kirsten casually asked, “Are you turning 45 this year?”
I nodded confidently.
Sure. That sounded right.
Fast forward to my birthday. I walked into clinic and was greeted with full-blown celebration mode—enthusiastic cheering, flowers, and giant silver helium 4 and 5 balloons. I posed for pictures and posted on social media. I smiled. I thanked everyone. I basked. I spent the entire day boldly owning my advanced age.
Later that evening, I walked into my parents’ house (where we were staying post-fire) and was met with confused stares from my husband and parents.
“But… Caroline,” they said gently, “you’re turning 44.”
Cue the mental math.
Cue the realization.
Cue me absolutely cracking up laughing.
I had just celebrated being a full year older than I actually was—all day long—with photographic evidence.
So yesterday, after another hectic week of juggling the pediatric clinic, canceled school from an ice storm, and the almost-finished rebuilding of our home (SO close!), I walked into clinic and burst out laughing when I was greeted by a fresh set of big helium 45 balloons.
And honestly? The fact that my amazing friends and coworkers managed to pull this off despite the winter storm with icy roads and school closures throwing this week into mayhem made the celebratory balloons even sweeter.
This year, I can officially say it with confidence:
I am actually 45.
And I’m very happy to be celebrating it—again
