I've heard it mentioned before that the whole idea of celebrating a day about one's self is wrong--even sinful.
But I disagree, and I am making up for lost time.
When I had my kids, I learned the importance of a fantastic birthday. On their special day, I wanted them to have love volleyed at them in rapid fire succession all day long with little surprises and big ones, too. Of all days, on their birthday, there should be no question that they matter--even if I didn't spend a dime.
Because, you see, growing up, our entire family, Grandpa, mom, dad, sister and I all had birthdays in July--my dad, sister and I were all within five days. Now, if that wasn't enough to make a birthday a little less special, we shared celebrations to save on something.
Still not sure what that saved...Time? Effort?
Paper plates?
Also, my mother stunk at gift giving. I mean it. Ask my sister. We usually got the same strange item, like an earring holder crafted by some ancient lady at a church craft fair from yarn and white plastic. Of course, I might get a red earring holder and she, blue, since we were, after all, totally unique people. And since my mother knew me so well, I usually got a dessert that she made special that she also forgot--or never knew--that I hated.
Truly, I don't remember one birthday I had or even one gift except the year I turned double digits (a big deal in any 10 year old girl's life) I got a..........
drumroll please.............
Umbrella.
Yup. Still feeling pretty bummed about that one.
For the record, it's not that I get really greedy on my birthday, although I'm sure it must sound like it by this point. To this day, I don't want money spent. I just want a day to be considered. That is the most meaningful thing in the world to me on any given day. Like, "Oh, you have a lot to do today! Let me unload the dishwasher!" Or, "Wow! You must be exhausted. Let me rub your shoulders."
And my family is simply FANTASTIC about these things EVERY day. I just spent a lot of years waiting to be seen, and I happen to really like a day where I can ask away and it's allowed.
I don't ask for much on Mother's Day. I don't particularly like that day. It's a Hallmark holiday that's pretty contrived, in my humble opinion, and I don't usually ask for anything. Save it up for the real deal, baby.
On my birthday, I sleep in. Sleeping is my favorite.
No, I take it back--eating is my favorite. On my birthday, I don't cook. I eat out somewhere great--my choice. On my special day, no one fights or squabbles, and when they have to keep their mouths shut, I smile. I don't work (unless it's a piano day--you know, that whole pesky JOB thing). But other than that, I don't lift a finger. It's a.m.a.z.i.n.g. I love every minute.
(If I was single, I would do all this for myself, so if you are just, please, give yourself permission.)
It doesn't matter that I'm getting older. I feel great, and that's most of it, isn't it? Attitude.
To me, the key is to keep learning, setting goals, and having folks ask if your child is your sibling. These are the things that really count. And, yeah, that just happened to Kyrsten and me. Love that.
And this year, despite my agedness, I have set out to learn some neat things--like an amazing piano song that I've been working on entirely too long. And I'm teaching myself to can things like peaches and tomatoes and pickles--neat, huh?
I've accomplished some huge personal achievements (Friday being day 59 of 60 grueling days of
And, I'm looking ahead to a fantastic new year in which my daughter gets married, I am hoping to take a trip that I've waited for since age four, and we are contemplating a move!
Wow! It's gonna be a great year! Which is great news because I fully intend to stay this age (that ends with a nine) for the entire rest of my life.