Happy Birthday

Birthdays are weird. The subject of them is stressful. They are not my favorite. Last year on my birthday I argued with my children about how old I was. I thought I was 33, a little quick math revealed I was mistaken, I was only 32. That’s how much I normally pay attention to my own birthday.

The boys both have holiday birthdays and that too, is stressful. Those birthdays are fun, I enjoy them even if they do make me a little sad. We have big parties at pizza places without absolutely any organization. No silly games or set times. People come and go and drop off cards and kisses. I like things like that.

I.. do not have birthday parties. I recall my fifth birthday party, in our backyard. My cousins were there and my mother’s boyfriend got really drunk and loud and I got a Holly Hobby sewing kit with a doll. Best. Birthday. Ever.

When I turned 11 I had a Mexican party. I wore a red dress and red shoes my mother had bought special and our neighbor Kim came and smoked over the cake and then I didn’t want to eat any. My friend Letty ate 4 large bowls of popcorn and then threw up in the white plastic terrarium. She had never had popcorn before. Yea.

When I was 16, in a bout of guilt over some nameless thing, my mother again threw me a party. I used to have a picture of that party, I was wearing a plaid ruffled shirt with a v neck and laces like a corset(shut up that shirt was AWESOME) and blue jeans tucked into my socks. My Aunt D and I were sipping soda and laughing really hard in that picture. I wish I still had it.

And that was it. When I turned 21 I had a six month old baby and a husband I didn’t like very much. He went to work before I woke up that day and came home after I was asleep. The baby and I had thrush. It was one of the most miserable days of my life.

Today is my birthday again and I am thirty three, roughly, and with a little luck, one third of my life is over. I didn’t do so bad. I have some giant gaping holes where I did the wrong thing.. but when set beside all the right things I did, they do not look so bad. My children took their ‘life savings’ and bought me a book about wraps, you know.. sandwiches without crusts? and pretty silver earrings I wouldn’t have bought myself. Most of my relatives, no matter how much space we have let fall between us, paused to say happy birthday. At work I got a card and a balloon and a gift too corny to mention. They bought a cake and everyone sang. Suddenly I like my birthday. I have friends and family and co-workers that for all their strange little twitches and sigh worthy moments.. I would not trade for anything.

The day is only half over but I do not think, in any way, it could possibly get any better.