Funny how a person gets older and stays so much the same. I wrote this post on my 37th birthday (two years ago), and I could pretty much re-post it this year and call it a day.
I’m still boring and ultra-practical. I still don’t like birthday hullabaloo (or Halloween). I still get all melancholy on my birthday for who knows what reason.
I’m totally a birthday grinch.
There is really no pleasing me. Buy me gifts and write me gushing words, and I will blush and roll my eyes and say, “you shouldn’t have.” Ignore (or forget) my birthday, and I’ll most likely be sad and disappointed.
Lose lose lose. (Can you imagine being married to me?)
I’m sitting here in a hotel room in Pennsylvania (hi, PA friends!, tired from the drive (Gabe fell asleep before 8:00), a little bummed that the pool is being renovated, and thinking, “Why can’t I just be a normal person who has a lovely birthday?”
And I think I’ve stumbled upon a thought. A revelation of sorts.
I know my life is just way better when I’m thinking of others instead of myself. So, a day about me just kind of feels wrong. But I also know that other people like to be a blessing to me, and when I rob them of that, boo on me.
Soooo, it’s like this big conundrum, this tension, this emotional/mental dilemma. And I’m easily overwhelmed, so it all just turns into a big swirl of yucky weirdness and then I feel ridiculous for having a brain and heart that cannot just be simple and N-O-R-M-A-L for one brief day a year at least.
So, how about this?
I am going to wake up tomorrow with zero expectations. I am going to focus on others. I am not going to worry about things. I am going to ride happily to NYC and enjoy the city and not fret if I forgot things and refuse to worry if my birthday dinner costs too much.
I’m going to accept birthday greetings (online and in real life) graciously. I’m not going to anticipate any gifts or surprises, but I will receive them warmly and gratefully if they come. I will even give a real answer instead of “nothing” when people ask me what I want for my birthday.
I’m going to count–and give thanks for–my blessings. Because, goodness knows, there are a BUTTLOAD of them.
Bottom line: I’m going to get over myself.
And enjoy my first day of 39.
I have a feeling this will be a very good (hard, awesome, exciting, adventurous) year.
Anybody else have emotional issues on your birthday, or is it just me?