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Getting older. Why I don’t like celebrating my birthday1

When it comes to celebrating getting older, I try not to tempt the Birthday Gods. wCelebrating the day that I was dropped by the stork into my loving moms arms. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it; I have a 2.9-year-old and a 5.2-year-old.

Oh how every year these Birthday Gods find me and put me to some sort of test. Whilst this may sound dramatic please bear in mind that this is my birthday after all and I can whine and cry if I want to and I am closer to 40 than I have ever wanted to be.

Getting older and the perks of a birthday.

Thankfully I woke up prepared, with a mug of coffee and a piece of cake. This birthday was no different but somehow a vomiting child and another one running to the loo for other reasons was not going to bring me down.

Being a mom and celebrating getting older.

The thought did cross my mind to have a dramatic moment of me kneeling in the rain, hands and arms, pointed up towards the heavens shouting “Why? Why? Why?”.  Obviously, my make-up would be perfect with just that little bit of mascara/eyeliner combo that would somehow take my look from day eyes to smoky evening eyes but the drama eluded me by a massive amount of cute and lovable.

Pro’s of young kids and getting older

My girls sang happy birthday every 8 minutes. I had various broken toys, personal belongings wrapped up in baby blankets, and muslin clothes proudly presented to me. I also had vomit and poo to clean but somehow it wasn’t that bad.

The man I call husband (still trying to figure the right amount of info to dish out on this blog) gave me a knife set (something I just know will take my cooking to the next level). I love my gift and it shows there are love and a little trust in giving me knives.

I was spoilt with messages and phone calls, as well as a homemade beanie, flowers and not to go into boring details but there were vouchers too. I was made to feel like someone special. It was a birthday global village happening in my lounge people. Oh, social media how I love thee; especially when stuck at home with germ-carrying snot flickers. Not bad for this old gal I would say.

Next year though I’m hoping it won’t be as dramatic and maybe my plans can involve me actually getting a fancy coffee.

Disclaimer: I did not have a self-fulfilling prophecy. I was positive. I was happy. I was indifferent.

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