Birthday Stepford

On Sunday, I turned 25.

The big 2-5.

My dad had offered to take Little Darling for the weekend and Wonderful Husband and I were excited to spend time together. We hit up some parties for Halloween, stayed out late, drank too much, and lived like a couple of college kids (complete with dragging into his parents house in the middle of the night to collapse into bed). We helped his dad make apple cider with the billions of apples still hanging around their house, and Wonderful Husband and I made his parents a homemade salmon dinner. It was a really great weekend. Wonderful Husband even got me a necklace set with matching earrings that I had gushed over earlier in the year at a local festival.

It honestly didn’t feel like much of a birthday. I spent some time wondering about this. Aren’t birthdays supposed to be special and full of meaning and happy times? Sure they are. But then again, every day of my life is special and full of meaning and happy times. The reason this birthday didn’t feel any different than any other day is because birthdays are normally a time when you get treated special and get to do whatever you want. I do what I want every day! I wake up with my beautiful daughter and my amazing husband, I get to stay home with my daughter and cook yummy, healthy meals for my family. I have amazing friends and family who always make me feel very loved and very special, not just on one day out of the year. I have a beautiful home and a beautiful family and a really beautiful life. So birthdays aren’t really all that important anymore.

I even spent my birthday money on Wonderful Husband and Little Darling. Nothing fancy, she got a new pink camo sweat suit and he got a new travel mug guaranteed to keep coffee hot for 7+ hours. Its the little things.

Normally, on Facebook, I post a birthday message describing myself and what I have accomplished since the previous year.

So here goes…

  • I am 25 years old
  • I married my soul mate
  • I am a mother
  • I am so clumsy that so far today I have grated my thumb on the cheese grater and ripped my toe ring off on the baby gate
  • I love wine, sweet wine, none of that grown up crap that tastes like rancid grapes. If it doesn’t taste like kool aid I am not interested
  • I love to cook, bake, and do just about anything in the kitchen
  • Grocery shopping makes me really nervous, something deep down left over from my college days when I was constantly wondering if I would have enough money to cover the bill
  • I am obsessive about cleaning
  • I get ridiculously, emotionally attached to characters in TV shows and require several days of mourning if one dies.
  • I have resting bitch face. I am not angry, that’s just my face.
  • I am currently in the process of breaking my addiction to electronics
  • I will probably never break my addiction to coffee, cheese, or pasta
  • I am fiercely loyal
  • I hate confrontation, although when I get angry…watch out
  • I think a home with scented candles, soft lighting, music, and smells of cooking is just about the most welcoming thing in the world
  • I cannot sleep with socks on
  • I have a bachelors degree, but I basically knew from the age of 7 that all I wanted in life was to be a wife and mother
  • I have accomplished and succeeded every goal that I ever had in life up to and including my front loader washer and dryer and my dyson vacuum cleaner

I very truly do not know many people who are content with their life. Most everybody wants something or needs something or wishes they could change something. But, I truly wouldn’t change anything. If a genie popped out of a lamp and asked for my three wishes I would probably wish to get rid of our debt, for Wonderful Husband to have job security, and for Little Darling to always have a happy life.

That sounds kind of silly. It just popped into my head, but I guess really it is a good thing to think about. We have to be our own genie. What would you wish for?

Now, go accomplish it.


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