Tuesday, September 8, 2015

My first 29th birthday.

From here on out, subsequent birthdays shall merely be the anniversaries of my 29th birthday as I think 30 is just too strange when I still feel like I'm 17 most days.

Last Thursday was my birthday. As usual I looked forward to it with childish abandon, and as usual I was disappointed. Adult birthdays just aren't any fun. No one gets all excited, you don't get a big party, or tons of presents, and you look like a fool if you go around pronouncing it's your day of birth all day, so most people just have no idea.

The morning started off rough as I was tired (courtesy of a 3 year old who wakes up screaming at the wee hours of the night and a clingy bambino who was very upset that I had been back at work that week). That tired led to me snapping at Drew about getting everything ready for the morning and me leaving almost n tears because he hadn't even said happy birthday. Lame Drew, Lame. 

I had drop off that morning which meant I couldn't pump on the way to work like I usually do (too many distractions to be even remotely safe) and I got to work 25 minutes later than usual. I had just enough time for a 15 minute pumping session before starting off with my kids. That session was long enough to realize I had forgotten the bottle bags (that I put pumped bottles into before putting in the work fridge) AND my freezer bag that I put my pump in between session so I don't have to wash it every time.

When I finally made it to my classroom, I discovered a super-sweet coworker had bought me one of my beloved DD iced teas and another brought me gorgeous flowers. I thought my awful morning was ending. (Drew even called to wish me a happy birthday, finally). The Facebook posts and texts were arriving and I was starting to feel all loved. 

Then I tripped over my computer cord and spilled my iced tea all over the carpet in my classroom. Major bummer. My students were incredibly sweet and grabbed millions of paper towels to mop it all up. The rest of the morning was hectic and busy with pumping, meetings, and 22.2 seconds to scarf down some lunch before the kids got back.

Thankfully Drew took care of me and the day got better with some Thai food for dinner, chocolate peanut butter cupcakes (yum!) and a cute card from the kids. I also got a good laugh when I realized that Drew doesn't know how to spell his own son's name. Good thing I took care of all the paperwork in the hospital :) 

The day got better, and it ended up being a nice birthday, but birthdays just don't feel special anymore which is such a disappointment. I guess that just means I need to be a real grown up and stop caring so much about the anniversary of my birth... no promises, but I'll work on it. 

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