I turned 35 last week. For some reason I can't quite put my finger on, I am always crabby on my birthday. Maybe it has something to do with my friend Cathy's reason for disliking New Year's...another year has passed...another year closer to the end of my life. I just count from birthday to birthday instead of by calendar year. Perhaps birthdays are just a depressing reminder of my own mortality, something which is never far from my thoughts. Instead, my birthday should be a time to celebrate my life. I am going to work on my attitude for next year.
For someone who is not into her birthday, I had a pretty good one. A couple days before, some friends took me out to dinner. We had so much fun and laughed until we were given the evil eye by our waitress and thus felt compelled to leave the restaurant. I heart my friends. On the actual day of my birthday, my best friend Julie treated me to breakfast at Panera. Our big kids were in school, so we each had a baby with us...Mattie and Chloe - destined to be BFF's. Julie made me a plate of cookies and muffins to take home. She knows my weakness for sweets. My dad and step-mom came over for a visit. We ate carry-out Chinese for lunch and they brought me an absolutely decadent chocolate bump cake. It seems they also know of my weakness for sweets. Later on, my mom, mother-in-law and step-father-in-law came over too. This time we ate carry-out Culver's and my in-law's brought me another cake, an oh-so-delicious Casata cake. It was definitely a good day for eating. I had lots and lots of "Happy Birthday" messages on Facebook, a few phone calls and a couple cards in the real live mail. So really, I had no reason to be cranky on my birthday. I was spoiled and loved all day. But to be honest, I still was...a little bit.
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