Today is my birthday. I’m turning 39, which feels about as depressing as turning 17. Seventeen was only mildly better than 27. What all these ages have in common is being just shy of any major milestone. At 17 you’ve been able to drive for at least a year but still can’t vote or be considered an adult. At 27 you’re definitely out of your “wild” twenties but not old enough to be taken seriously by anybody worthwhile. At 39 you are just old enough to realize that you are no longer young but not old enough to embrace your age as a sign of progress and success. In other words, nobody throws a big bash for turning 39. I have no special plans, and don’t expect any big surprises. I suspect this day will pass as most days pass with me raising my children, preparing for class and picking up army men off of the floor for the 1, 261st time.
This week my thoughts are more preoccupied with why the world of advertising takes pride in the fact that it doesn’t even try to acknowledge work/life balance and instead is boastful about their employees working 24 hour shifts? Being raised by a management expert this was frequently referred to as poor resource and time management not “trying to do the best work possible” because after all don’t we all do our best work between the hours of 3-4 in the morning? I’m scouring recipe books trying to figure out what I can possibly send in Lucy’s lunchbox that doesn’t include peanut butter, look like a sandwich and isn’t just turkey. As of now she will be eating turkey rolls everyday until she branches out. I’m torn up about deciding to send my baby to preschool – a choice we did not make for Lucy. Is it the right thing to do? Is he ready? Am I taking the easy route? I’m sick with the fact that my school year starts on Monday where I will be using a new textbook. A textbook that I didn’t choose, I haven’t read and yet I’m expected to write a lesson plan for by Monday. In the meantime I’m behind on every household chore possible and I have chronic acid reflux which makes me feel like I’m on the verge of vomit during most of the day.
This is 39.
Happy Birthday me.
5 thoughts on “Do I At Least Get Cake?”
Happy birthday Beth! May the army men pick themselves up off the floor, may you get a giant gooey cake today, may your lesson plan easily flow from your brain, may your acid reflux subside, may you enjoy the hummus recipe I’m going to send you for Lucy’s lunchbox and may you SMILE and feel a giant birthday hug from all of these “mundane” things that act as a reminder of all of the great things that you’ve made possible in the last 39 years!
(this concludes the sapiness portion of my programming day!)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETIE!!!
Happy Birthday — You’ll always be my litle girl!! I’m flattered that you remember some of the mangement lessons and how to evaluate managers. But the job you are doing is the most important one and picking up toy soldiers for the 1,262 time is just part of that job. Enjoy it now because it doesn’t last.
Oh honey… how I wish for a day of no work for David and him pampering you! He will soon… this madness can’t last much longer! Happy Birthday mama. I know it’s hard right now but I promise it will get better! Wish I was there to take you to lunch and buy you a cool new pair of shoes/new purse. Love you!
On a side note: I think Max needs preschool whereas Lucy didn’t. I also think he will enjoy it. He probably would have been terribly bored with another/different nanny. 🙂
Sorry it wasn’t a glamorous birthday, but know that you are loved, and there are many of us happy that 39 years ago, you were born and are now in our lives.
Plus, this year you gain the awesomest cousin-in-law ever…right? 🙂