Happy birthday to me!

I'm another year older. For years, growing older was hard. When I was younger, I would dread my birthdays. Turning 25 was the hardest. When I turned 30 I was pregnant and that helped offset that milestone. Anymore though, I think of my birthday as a fun novelty - nothing extravagant, nothing to be dreaded, just a day to have a little fun. 

I was thinking about it this year after complaining to someone that it's so unfair that my birthday falls during the one week of the year that my allergies are at their worst. I realized that I have spent some birthdays in memorable (and not always pleasant) ways :)

When my mom was getting the house ready for my second birthday, I fell down two steps and started screaming. My mom took me to the hospital and endured four hours of waiting for them to fix me. Four hours of a screaming two year old with a broken leg. Since this was my third broken bone and I had a history of hospitalizations, Mom was viewed very negatively and with suspicion. Every time I think I have it bad, I remember my mom's stories about that day and realize I don't have it so bad ;)  Came home in a cast from thigh to foot and when people showed up at the party, they were stunned. (For the record, I was not abused. I promise :) Just one of those sick kids that the doctor's couldn't figure out based on the knowledge of the day.)

When I turned six, my mom and grandma made an entire tray of flower basket cupcakes for my class. I still remember them. They made icing flowers, arranged them on the cupcakes, twisted pipe cleaners into basket handles and tied little bows on them. I was so proud and excited when I passed them out to my class.

When I turned nine I was allowed to have a party and sleepover for my friends. With my mom and my grandma, we made personalized aprons for everyone. Sounds crazy but it was awesome. My friends loved them.

When I turned thirteen, my parents decided to put in a pool. They started digging on my birthday. I annoyed my brothers by telling them that the pool was my birthday present and it would belong more to me than to them. Just to be annoying, of course :)

When I turned fifteen, I had another sleepover party with my friends. We watched Nightmare on Elm Street on the family's new and exciting VCR. *laugh*  About 3/4 through the movie, we heard a scratching sound on the screens of the window behind us. I bravely pulled up the blinds and there stood Freddy Krueger. Okay, so it was really my dad with a striped sweater, a hat pulled over his eyes and 4 steak knives taped to his gloved fingers. There was a moment of panicked silence, broken when my dad flicked on the propane torch. The screaming and running ensued. It was a night every one of us probably still remembers. We were laughing about it years later. It's one of those crazy things that you had to be there to understand how fun it was....afterward, of course. It was a bit terrifying in the middle ;)

When I turned sixteen, I took the SAT. Most draining thing I have ever done. Including that calculus final in college. It came out okay and my scores were enough to get me the scholarships I needed...but what a miserable thing to do on a birthday.

When I turned eighteen, I graduated from high school. I was born at 1:44 PM and my ceremony was 18 years, 16 minutes later. My older brother and I were in the same grade and I remember gloating because I had twice as many presents - my birthday and graduation versus his graduation. I asked for, and received, a typewriter. I was telling my kids about this a few days ago and Ike said, "What's a typewriter?"  *sigh*

When I turned twenty, DJ gave me a small ruby ring and presented it as a promise ring. We had been dating for about 6 months and we knew we would get married as soon as I graduated. He was two years ahead of me and had to wait for me to finish up. He proposed my senior year and we were married the fall after graduation. 

When I turned 27, I was in the midst of my first bout of depression. I was a mess. I'd had my first miscarriage the fall before and my system was thrown completely out of whack. It couldn't seem to rebalance and I was barely functioning. I spent this birthday in therapy and on Prozac. I really believed that I would be back to normal 6 months later. At 38, I have a bottle of Wellbutrin on the counter. It's evolved into SAD but it's clear my hormones never figured out how to go back...

When I turned 29, I was a mom. Ike had been born that February. We were getting ready to start trying for a sibling.

When I turned 30, I was busy packing up my house to move. In the previous year, I'd been through another miscarriage, managed to get pregnant for the 4th time, listed and sold our house and bought a new one. Since the 2nd babe was a boy, we had painted the room blue and yellow and I had tons of stars painted and ready to go on the wall. Of course, in September we found out she was a girl and DJ was busy repainting for her November arrival.

When I turned 33, I was worried about my daughter. I had this idea that she had diabetes but it was too crazy to really consider. Within a week of my birthday she was diagnosed and we had spent a few days in the hospital with her. Life turned upside down for awhile.

And now I'm 38. I no longer schedule anything around my birthday. Just in case ;)  This year, I asked DJ for a day full of movies. One day, as many movies as possible. I get to pick them all :)  We don't have the day set yet as we need to find someone to spend the days with the kids but I'm looking forward to it!

Happy birthday to me!