Meh. I’m 39 today. I have lost the ability to look forward to birthdays, let alone mark them in any discernible fashion because, just, meh. Let me eat the frosting out of the can. Happy birthday to me, make it Duncan Hines Classic Creamy Home-Style Chocolate, not that new whipped crap.
What is it with the marking of another year that makes us spiral into questions about what’s it all for? Here I am, another year older, introspective about, well, everything. And I mean everything. I am trying, y’all, trying hard not to be cynical, not to be the I’m getting old, there are new lines under my eyes, my bones hurt when it rains person. But, oh, how I want to wallow in the truth that sometimes life sucks, sometimes we are penniless, hopeless, and out of ideas. Sometimes we look back on the previous year, the year that started out with so much determination, so many plans and committed utterances of “I got this” and realize I gots nothin’. At least, that’s where I am this year. This is not unlike all of the other years, though, so why let one day out of the year (a day when my mother actually did all the work) bring me down further?
I was going to make a list of all the things I don’t have but want, and compare it to all that I do have. But then I realized, what’s the point in pointing out what I don’t have? If I’m still actively pursuing those things, they shouldn’t be lumped into a category of “don’t have” finality. I’m going to use the word yet. I don’t have all of the things I want — YET. I’m not even going to list the things I want because that’d be like my trying to use Pinterest for a birthday party, recipe, or kitchen design ideas: positively torturous.
Four years ago I wrote this about my birthday. Last year I wrote this. This year here I am. What have I done? What do I have? Well, I have a home and family I love. I have this girl and this girl and this boy. I have a husband who I love to make laugh (and who knows there is really only one thing I want and that he is the only one person who can give it to me. I’m not likely to get it for my birthday this year or for Christmas or next year or the next or even ever. But he knows what it is at least and I hope these run on sentences make him feel very, very guilty). My children have both sets of grandparents, all within driving distance to drop the kids off on the porch, ring the bell, and run. Don’t worry; I gave them food. Please return my Tupperware.
I was a BlogHer Voice of the Year. My writing has been featured in the following places:
Holy hell, look, y’all! There is more in the what I have than the what I have not column. Huh. Looka there. It’s called the bright side. Nice to meet you; I don’t think we’ve met before.
* * * * *
You are oftentimes worrisome, sorrowful, and frightened. You forget to look at what is in front of you, see what is more important than finances, job satisfaction, shoes, and wait, no, scratch the shoes. Shoes are damned important. Please find that DSW coupon you got for your birthday and use it (on yourself). You look at the glass as half empty wondering why in the hell you can’t keep even one glass of juice for yourself, just one, because COME ON, IT WAS JUST HALF FULL.
You are a loving, valued friend. You are a confidant, a listener, an unbiased advice giver. That’s the Libra in you: the ability to see a situation from various sides and be impartial. Your husband will disagree. Pay no attention to him; he’s wrong.
You are a fantastic mother. You are sometimes not that fantastic as a mother. But, you keep trying. That’s all that matters.
You are the best wife your husband could ever ask for. Ever. There is nothing else to be said here as this is absolute truth.
What? OK, hump him more. Happy?
You are a gifted writer. Please reread that as often as you need to to solidify that in your mind. You are a talented writer. Write more. Submit your writing more often to outlets that deserve to hear your voice. You are intelligent. As long as you aren’t asked anything about math, you are going to go so far. Keep writing. Submit what you write.
When I look at you, I see beauty, both inside and out. Even makeupless, squinting, and unsmiling.
Yes, you are a year older, but you are hot as hell for 39. All the construction workers think so. You may not have as much breast as you would like, but your husband has never complained (please refer to more humpage suggestion above). Yes, you have braces and your teeth will still not be straight when you get them off this year, but they will be straighter. This will make you hotter. It’s almost unbearable.
You are funny sometimes.
You have gorgeous hair!
Now, you should feel much better about where your life is headed, where you can take your life if you just SIT THE HELL DOWN AND WRITE.
Oh, and wash the dishes already. Those damn fruit flies ain’t gonna disappear on their own.