We all celebrate our birthdays in different ways in this house. Zane is all about the loot, and the cake, and all the fuss. I have a feeling that will never change. Larry has to have some sort of fuss made, which may or may not in include a demand for a party or an Iron Maiden concert. I try my best to give him what he wants, and so far he hasn't complained much.
My feelings about birthdays are different. I have learned not to get excited about them, through various childhood traumas. Like the time nobody showed up to my party. Or the time that my entire family forgot, and I had to make my own darn birthday cake. I have learned not to ask for any thing, because I might be told that it's too expensive, or worse, that it's stupid or silly.
I know, I am an adult, I should let go of that baggage and live in the now. The truth is that I don't think about any of those old wounds when it is not my birthday. Only when that day comes do all these old memories boil up to the surface like sulfur, stinking up the place. It's not like I don't have happy birthday memories. In fact, there are way more of those, which makes it even more annoying that my brain recalls the wrongs in such precise detail.
It really isn't fair, that we all strive so hard to be happy, and our brains just trip us up. My life also seems to be in flux right now. I sit between two outcomes, and I hate not knowing what is going to happen and feeling insecure about the future. I can't control that, but I can try to let that angst go, for one day.
Today I am 48. I know this because my son has asked me at least forty times a day how old I will be. He's also played the "older than" game, so I have had to indicate who, and what I am older than. I was happy to be able to say that I am NOT older than dirt, at least. Kids will always put a different perspective on everything, and mine makes me laugh. My husband will do his best to make sure that I have a great day. I will be surrounded by people who love me. And there will be cake.
A happy birthday, indeed.