27

Today I turn 27. I don't feel old, in fact i still feel like I'm 17. So I don't really dread the number itself. I more dread the day. There are two days, in my opinion that I get to have all to me during the year. My birthday, and mothers day. And usually, I'm let down by both. Each year I hope for something. . .acknowledgement at mothers day, and to have a little extra attention on my birthday. And usually, neither happen. Not because my husband is insensitive and doesn't care. It's more that he thinks because we have no money to go out of the way and do something, that there's nothing to be done.

So now I rewind the clock back to 10:00 pm last night. I'd gotten home from my meeting, and Todd had gotten home from fixing his brothers fridge. We were sitting in the kitchen, and Todd says out of the blue "So what do you want to do for your birthday tomorrow?" This is the first mention there's been of my birthday at all. He then said "Sara offered to watch the kids if we wanted to go to dinner. Or I could go out and spend way more than I should on a present." I sat there, silent, trying to choke back the tears. Because what I really wanted for my birthday was to not have to ask for something. I didn't want it to be like other holidays, and when I give a gift idea, I get exactly to the word what I mentioned. I wanted there to be some THOUGHT behind it. I wanted there to be an acknowledgement that he'd thought about it ahead of time. I'm not asking for mansions or gold here. Just some thought.

For example, I never let a birthday, fathers day, or any other holiday go by really, that I don't have the kids make something for their daddy. We sit down, and we take the time to think about daddy, and to make something. Todd always tells me he can't do that, because he's never home alone with the kids to do that without me being right there. Ok, I can understand that. But last night, he was home alone with the kids for several hours. I would have loved nothing more than to have been woken up this morning by hand scribbled, unreadable birthday cards from my children. That would have made my day. That would have meant the world to me.

I was greeted by my children this morning. All four of them came flying in after being prompted by Todd, and yelled out their "happy birthday" and then rushed back out to the living room to continue to watch "Tom and Jerry". And out the door my husband went to work. This is a super crazy busy week for him, and I know his mind has been elsewhere.

My other thing that I didn't have the nerve to tell him last night was that I don't want him to go out today and get something. Because then its just getting something to get it. There hasn't been any thought put into it. He'd just be getting it to say he got me something. And I don't want it that way. I'm sure that sounds really selfish, and like a spoiled brat, but its how I feel. Again, he could have written a note to me that said "Happy birthday" and I would have been perfectly content with that.

I'm sure this afternoon I'll have to get the kids dinner made before they go over to Sara's, and then we'll head somewhere for dinner. I always enjoy a date with my husband, but I just hate how I have this disappointment over it going into it. I wouldn't have been upset if he said a few days ago "hey honey, we're going to go out to dinner on your birthday, where would you like to go." Because then it would have let me know that it wasn't a last ditch effort to acknowledge my birthday.


Sorry for the pity post. I just needed to get that out so that I could continue along with my day, and try to put on a happy face.