I always kind of wondered when Birthdays would stop being a thing for me. Birthdays were always a thing for me.
Today I am 34 years old. And this is the birthday that birthdays stop being a thing.
I always loved birthdays. Not just for myself but for the special people in my life. Birthdays are your own. You do not share birthdays (for the most part) with anyone else unlike most gift giving/celebratory holidays.
Christmas is Jesus’ birthday and the older I get the more I get away from making a big deal about a holiday celebrating a religion I am not.
Valentine’s Day is Hallmark holiday, whack.
Easter, again, another religion based holiday which honestly my own family never really celebrated.
Mother’s Day another Hallmark holiday.
But birthdays… birthday’s are all your own. You get to celebrate another year on earth; life. You get to celebrate you (or your loved one). I love birthdays. I will spend a fortune on someone’s birthday as opposed to that same person at Christmas or any other day of the year.
Please do not take my love of birthday’s to mean that I have to have a big party or fan fare. Quite the opposite. I personally like to keep my birthdays LOW KEY.
When I was a kid my mother would never just “let me” stay home from school, except my birthday. She would let me skip school and we would go shopping. Every year until I graduated High School at least. And I will never forget the year my dad sent me flowers at school for my birthday. I was in elementary school and I got called down to the office – and I was never the kid to be called down to the office. I remember so clearly walking into the office and seeing these beautiful purple flowers on the secretary’s desk. Then the secretary said they were delivered for me. I loved purple back then. I don’t think my dad remembers that birthday; I don’t even remember how old I was but gosh that has to be my favorite birthday memory.
As I got older my mother stopped taking my shopping but I continued to make sure I was off for my birthday. I think my entire adulthood I have worked exactly one birthday and it was the weirdest feeling ever.
Life changed and instead we started getting my family together for dinner to celebrate. My mom was not much of a cook when I was growing up (she still is not) so every year for my birthday I would ask my mom to make the two things she actually cooked – backed mac and cheese and Salisbury steak (aka, “my special meat” – I never knew what it was called when I was a kid, but I loved it). It is the only time of the year I actually ask her to cook.
Today I am 34 and it is the first time in at least 10 years where she did not make it. Instead we got together as a family yesterday at my parents house for lunch for my birthday. We had pizza.
Granted, my sister lives two hours away so it is a hike for her to come home…
But to celebrate my 34th birthday my mom ordered pizza. I loved getting to spend time with my family, but pizza. Sigh.
All that aside, my husband is still healing from ankle surgery so that was a large portion of the conversation yesterday. My father barely said two words to me, but was full of questions for my husband. He’s even planning to come over one day and bring him lunch. And when I mention that I would never get my father to bring me lunch if I were in the same situation I was told that I never did work around their house….
Today is my 34th birthday and my son did not even wish me a happy birthday. I went to the gym and got the dog ear cleaner. My daughter begged and pleaded for me to take her and her best friend shopping for Twin Day at school. (I did not take them). I made my own baked macaroni and cheese and salsibury steak (with ground turkey!). I cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen. My Uncle called me…. but first he spoke to my husband, talking to him about his broken ankle for several minutes then quickly wished me a Happy Birthday and let me go. I got a text from one of my coworkers…. wishing me a Happy Birthday, then asking how my husband’s foot was. All in one text. He doesn’t even really know my husband.
I realize I sound petty.
I sound pretty resentful too. I guess I am.
I am glad that my husband has so many people interested in his well being.
I am not someone who generally likes being the center of attention anyway. But for one day I just kind of wanted a day to myself. It’s been a hectic 30 days and would have been nice to just have one day in the last 30 days that did not involve someone asking how he is doing. Especially when I’ve pretty much told everyone he had surgery, is mobile and is recovering. I’m not sure if I would share anything beyond that anyway because I am a pretty private person.
I always thought I’d be a little older when I stopped making my birthday a thing. I thought my parents would be older. I thought my kids would be older.
Today is my birthday and it is just another day on the calendar.