But you're so... OLD!

This is a rather self-pitying, whining post.  Feel free to skip it if that sort of stuff annoys you.

I had my 30^th birthday last week, and to be honest it was rather stinky.  It wasn’t simply crossing over the no-longer-in-my-twenties threshold, but rather a culmination of things that happened that day that tried to push me over the edge.

 

My birthday is on Valentine’s Day and while it makes me sound like a selfish five year old, this year it was hard to see everyone else getting fawned over, spoiled and surprised on MY special day.  All over FB there were pictures of bouquets, gifts, treasure hunts, special dates and surprises from loved ones.  Do I sound too much like an ogre to say that next year I’m just not going to go on FB on Valentine’s Day?

 

Now before you start wondering where my husband was during this pity party of mine, I had bought a new shirt two weeks previous and told him that it was my V-day gift because we’re really watching our spending.  He gave me my birthday present before leaving for work, except I still cannot figure out how to wear the shawl properly.  It has two buttons, but only 1 button hole.  It must say something about my current mental state when I need my accessories to come with instruction manuals, preferably with illustrations.  Then David rushed off to work, into odious tax season.  His job is so stressful right now and I’m lucky to even see him for an hour or two a day, so I wasn’t expecting him to take the time to plan out a scavenger hunt or take me out to dinner.  He bought me a potted plant last year, but the memory of its slow and painful demise thankfully kept him from buying another flower for me to murder.  I don’t do well with indoor plants; I’m more into  free-range flowers.  Unless it’s producing food for me, then I’ll lovingly water them, pull weeds and give them “grow up big and tasty” pep talks.

 

So on the day that I was entitled (ha ha) to be pampered, I was sleep deprived (when, oh when will you sleep through the night, Sam?) the children were cranky and I got a call that the appraiser for our mortgage refinance would be over early the next morning.  So then I was sleepy, cranky and panicking because my house was a disaster.  I know they say a messy house won’t affect an appraisal, but you couldn’t even walk into the laundry room, the garden was full of yard debris and our office/catch all room looked like a closet monster had thrown up all over the floor.  So I spent the day organizing and cleaning.  Then scrubbing the moulding because unsupervised Ben had gotten a hold of an ink pen.  Then re-vacuuming because Ben decided to make pancake confetti and literally tossed an entire pancake’s worth of crumbs into the air.  Then, upon finally sitting down on my couch, I discovered that it smelled of pee.

 

Let’s just say that David has been informed that I get to have a do-over Valentine’s Day and birthday this summer.