Old and ornery is not what I had planned, but I am embarking on seeing my age demographic rise. In less than 24 hours I will be officially a year older and hopefully wiser. Not sure if I am all that thrilled about the getting older thing, but you just cannot stop that freight train from happening, right?
Now, normally people look forward to celebrating that anniversary of birth, but I just never got all that excited. I used to, but after years of non-celebrations on my behalf has left me a little jaded. I remember as a youngster, trying to put together a birthday party for myself to only have it become a no-show fest and a solo trip to the store with my dad to pick out what I would like for my birthday gift.
Back then, my parents struggled to support me and my three other siblings. Not in a way that made it look like we were destitute, but every penny was accounted for in my family home. Both my mom and dad worked. Not always at the same time, but they both earned something to keep the essentials around. We had the option.... Have a birthday party with friends, games and cake or not have a party and get one thing we really want for our birthday.
With having a birthday so close to a summer holiday, it was far harder to assemble a group of friends to celebrate with me. The carnivals were in full swing, family vacations happened, and with the weather apparently being too perfect to be packed in a house for an afternoon... I would get far more declines to my birthday party than I would actual R.S.V.P.'s. So, I usually got something from my mom and dad and called it a day. Sure, I got well wishes, but not much beyond that. I do not blame my parents for feeling like a misfit toy on Christmas Island. I do not blame the friends I had back then that celebrating my birthday with me looked more like a last resort before all the other great things that they can do on my birthday. It was just what it was... another day... no big deal. In fact, one birthday was spent at a funeral of a friend and not one person thought of wishing me a happy birthday. WOW... totally selfish to think that it should have been acknowledged when people are grieving over a death of a friend. That just added a pang of guilt right now.
With other people getting sweet 16 parties that appeared more like a gala event, I could have been jealous, but it took too much effort to pull that emotion out of my hat. My 21st birthday was fun. I had a few older friends of mine take me to a bar for my first drinking experience. Of course, trouble follows me... or so I started to believe when some drunk chick tried to pick a fight with me. Once she figured out that I was not to be messed with when I offered to take her out into the parking lot to settle her apparent issue... it was quite uneventful. I already knew what my limit was well before being of legal age. Yep, I had my real first taste of alcohol at my oldest sister's wedding. I was 17. A completely embarrassing debacle of events that my sister has on video tape for nostalgic purposes to look back upon (sorry big sis... still feel a pang of guilt over that, but my first hangover was a definite lesson learned... well, my date did not seem to mind crashing into the ladies room to help feed me crackers and 7-up to sober me up a bit, so it did have some funny memories in hindsight about that).
Now, when it came to milestone birthdays as an adult, I happen to still be an afterthought. When I turned 30, I did notice my best friend trying to make it a little special while we were at a BBQ by giving me a gift and an "over the hill" balloon. I appreciated the effort. At 40, I hoped for a little surprise party from DH (since I threw one for his 40th), but I did not. I did get a card and nothing else, so I should appreciate that I was thought of regardless, right? After having 40 smack me upside my head, the birthdays that followed lacked the party as well as the card. Heck, I would get a "happy birthday" comment . maybe a quick kiss and back to the routine of being the overachieving spouse that I am with cooking, cleaning and all the usual stuff... just another ordinary day. There has been one thoughtful moment that usually happened on my birthday, but that came to a screeching halt last year.... my best friend would do her best to make some time for me, offer a small trinket and give me the feeling that I was appreciated for making it another year. She moved away and can't just fly back just for me and my birthday. I know I will get to hear from her and I really do appreciate that. It has boiled down to the smallest of things being appreciated the most.
Of course, I know that at the time of my birth (at the glorious crack of dawn), I will get a phone call from my mom and her rendition of singing happy birthday to me. She contributed to my birthday gift in lieu of a party (the tradition still stands all these years as well as being married with a family of my own now), and with getting it early.... I will put to use that Magic Bullet from Bed Bath and Beyond. She contributed half the cost and also supplied the coupon to save on the cost. Works for me since she is on a fixed income and really should not spend on me anymore. She should spend it on herself instead. I'll probably get a call from my other siblings somewhere during the day. One will sing, one will tease me by telling me that I am an old hag (even though I am the youngest of the brood) which will be filled with banter, and the other might find the time to call (she is really busy, you know). DD will probably make me an originally designed card and give me a hug. DH will probably mention a "happy birthday" before he heads off to work or maybe mention it later in the day (if he remembers, that is). Basically, only feeling slightly special, but just another ordinary day nonetheless.
What kind of hits me hard is the looking back at how far I have gone in life and all those "what ifs" that I passed on. I get a little nostalgic and withdrawn while I try to embrace that I am another year older. While I would love to go into hiding for the day that marks the anniversary of my birth, I have no choice but to face getting older. Really... is turning 45 a death sentence? Heck, is it a milestone birthday? Probably not. Just another year notch in my bedpost of life. Oh well.....
I did notice that I am getting a little short on the patience scale. I have been known for my calm nature and reasonable expectations. Heck, I have been told that I am sunshine wherever I happen to be, but I have noticed that I am getting real close to snapping sometimes. Stupidity and childish acts are really rubbing my nerves raw. Divas and wanna be divas are going to hear my wrath real soon. There are times I feel like I am itching to let loose and really tell some people off while in the same breath I want to cry if there is a confrontation. I seem to be cracking at the seams, but it could be a hormonal thing. I am getting close to that age that does that. The sweats and the shivers are getting closer. I can almost feel it coming and I believe that takes away that feeling of being that delicate wallflower of being a woman. Oh, who am I kidding! I am a tomboy to the core and will probably embrace the lack of estrogen easier than most. I just have to check my attitude before opening my mouth and I guess turning 45 is a good starting point. Yep, embrace the fact that I am getting older, more ornery, and less cute. Of course, DD sucked the cuteness out of me when she was conceived. That is my story and I am sticking to it!!
Grrr... time to hibernate somewhere with the phone off the hook real soon. Time is running out! I don't wanna grow up!!!!!!!!!! ((burying my head under the covers)) But I have to get the grocery shopping for the week done first... sigh.
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