So I celebrated my birthday on Thursday, the 25th. I've always liked celebrating my birthday. It isn't just because of the presents, although that's certainly a great part of it. There's always the center-of-attention aspect, too, that has made my birthday highly anticipated. But that isn't the biggest delight for me, either.
After some deep thinking, I realize it's the whole position of being self-centered for a change. I don't mean that in a negative way, really. And this is just what it means to me.
Being the youngest of four kids, I usually felt at a disadvantage with my siblings. They were all bigger and more knowledgeable. (Notice I didn't say smarter.) They had, of course, experienced more than I had, at least while we were children. My sister and one of my brothers, older than me by three years and six years, respectively, were also nastier. Those two delighted in teasing me. Maybe tormenting would be a better word, because there was nothing humorous about it, most of the time. So my birthday celebration was my reprieve from their provocations.
My siblings would say I was spoiled. I say that, yes, my parents bought me a lot of stuff, but they didn't do much with me. My parents were scout leader and den mother for my two brothers. My mom helped out with the girl scouts for my sister. By the time I was getting into those things, my parents didn't even drive me to meetings. My brothers did. I even went to the library with my brother. Again, my birthday was a day that they paid attention to me.
I was a goody-two shoes in high school and didn't rebel or cause trouble. I had five or six years in my early twenties when I could do as I pleased, whenever I pleased. I made a good salary and had no debts. I was 26 when I had my daughter, and though I don't regret that for a minute, it was pretty much the end of "play time." Since then, I went from caring for my daughter for nearly two decades to caring for my aging mother. Once again, my birthday was my selfish day.
It's one of two or three days a year that I devote mostly to myself. (Notice the word mostly not entirely.) It has become the day that I don't cook, don't clean, don't do much for anyone else. Oh, I still have to make sure my mother eats, but we either go out or order in. This year, my daughter brought home individual pizzas for dinner. She also provided the chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes that were out of this world! She also had my computer cleaned. That was something she and my mother were going to pay for together. My daughter met someone at work who did it for free.
The gifts are great, though and I don't want to diminish the thought people put behind them. My sister sent me a card with a Visa gift card. My two bff's took me to lunch earlier in the week and gave me gift bags. One friend gave me cash with a candle and other goodies. The other gave me a handmade scarf, my favorite chai decaf tea and other goodies. A present from my daughter and mother is forthcoming. I'm thinking shoes. It's something that I usually spend around 30 bucks on, but if they are buying them, I think I'll splurge on some really cool, brand name shoes. Maybe Skechers. I'm still looking.
You wonder why I'm picking out my own gift? I'm really not sure why. I mean, my sister and friends always give me great gifts (although I admit I gave my friend the chai tea suggestion), but my daughter seems to have trouble picking out something for me. My mother probably would do okay, but she can't get out by herself. My family has just been "list" people. You made a list of things you wanted and they bought some of those items. I don't have a "list." Other than getting my computer cleaned, I just want new shoes.
The other day or two in the year devoted to mostly myself would be Mother's Day, of course. And Christmas to a much lesser degree.
I had a very nice birthday this year. Next year will be a milestone (or maybe a millstone!) but it'll still be my day. I'm sure one year, I'll wake up and feel old. Hopefully that's a few decades away!
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