Birthday Time

                                
So I had a birthday recently. A few weeks ago, but it feels like forever ago already. I do not care about my birthday. I don't hate my birthday or anything, I'm just not that into it. We have cake and a special dinner. I'm low key.

It annoys my husband that I don't get excited about my birthday. He always is trying to get me a ridiculous present. "What do you want for your birthday?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"I can't get you nothing."
"Put an extra $100 in our savings account."
"That is not a gift."
Seriously! I am telling you - not getting me a gift IS a gift to me. Acts of service, that's what I want."

I don't need any more crap. I'm not into it. I don't care about gifts in general. Do the dishes, fold laundry, shuffle the kids, rub my feet..... I'll take that over anything store brought. I'm simple, a utilitarian kind of woman.

In addition to my not being into gifts, I annoyed him a few weeks before my birthday when I said, "Did you know that Winston Churchill AND his father died on my birthday? That means that my birthday is the Churchill death day."

He was so upset about it. Truly bothered.
              
"That sucks, I don't want you to be sad on your birthday."

I was like, "Whoa! Slow down - I was stating a historical fact. I didn't know Winston Churchill personally or anything. I'm not going to be mourning on my birthday...."


The day before my birthday, I got a message from a high school friend that shares a birthday with me. We exchanged birthday greetings and remarked about how much time had passed. "Now it's just counting down until the kids are out of the house."

I thought about that for a moment and counted in my head. My youngest daughter will turn 18 in seven and a half years. In 7.5 years I will no longer be legally responsible for my minor children. THAT is truly something to think about.

My birthday came around on a Tuesday. My husband served me breakfast in bed at 5:51 in the morning. I was not happy about it. He has got to stop doing that. He does not like for me to sleep. I swear to God it's some kind of conspiracy.

The day went on as usual, I have a household to run. Dishes needed to be done, laundry to be folded, kids to be shuffled. We went out for pizza and then did cake and candles that evening. It was nice and low-key.

That night I went upstairs and said to my daughter, "Can you believe that your mom is 34?"
She looked at me like I was crazy. "Mom, you just turned 33."
"What?" I did the math in my head. "I am 33! WOW! I'm so young!"

                       
I was so happy. It was the best birthday gift ever, being a year younger than I thought I was turning. That's my mom brain....