Both my dear sweet lovely and I have birthdays within four days of one another. Now, we do love ourselves a birthday around here. Always have. What is there not to like about cake and presents, afterall? But, after having a baby...personally, my birthday just doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore. It hasn't felt at all like a birthday. Not leading up to it, and not now that it is here.
What in the hell happened? Am I all of a sudden more mature? Um...nopers. That is pretty much a guarantee (see picture above). So, what is it then?
I simply think that Finnley is now the focus. It is HER birthdays that will bring the most pleasure, excitement, and joy to our lives. Instead of looking forward to my own "special day", I will look forward to her first birthday in August and then all of the hundreds of others to follow from there. I want the parties, the cakes, the presents, the clowns, the hullabaloo, the selfish "all about ME, ME, ME, and if it isn't, I might hurt someone" sorts of days...all for her. Ok, maybe not the clowns. They really are kind of creepy. Ok, not kind of creepy....but SERIOUSLY creepy.
I guess all of this just makes me a mommy. A real adult, of sorts. As I said before, not necessarily more mature...but a real adult mommy lady person nonetheless.
But, just for old time's sake...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! boo-yah!!!
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