Birthday Blues

It’s nearly my birthday and I’m mired in gloom. My family is as usual, frustrated at my resistance to celebration. Usually I’m ready to celebrate the opening of an envelope so I know they find it baffling.

Before having the kids I often attempted to let it slide by unnoticed and on reflection that didn’t make it any easier. My life is better recently, I’ve reclaimed lots of stuff but my birthday remains stubbornly awkward, unwieldy, jagged and painful.

I couldn’t give you one clear reason. Partly it stems from the special birthday “treats” from my uncle. There was the painful year my M&D forgot the day. My fourteenth when I was a long way from home, trapped and lonely and then the next one, back here and just as alone. Then the slow patina of misery from maintaining a pretence of happiness to protect my family. The grinning and bearing. Over years it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The last few have been better as it’s very easy to get borne away on the flood tide of kids happiness. Their joy in cake and candles and wrapped up presents. The focus is on them which means I get to breathe and the time passes.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or self-pitying. I know I’m not these things (no matter how it sounds.) I also know that lots of people struggle with “occasions” I think of my shy aunts surprise fortieth party when it suddenly occurred to me as she slowly came up the stairs to the awaiting tribe that I should have positioned someone at the foot of the stairs to stop her bolting.

My new life plan of living in the moment should solve my problems *brief pause for hollow laughing* I guess some hills are steeper than others.

And the steepest of those shall be littered in crackers.

Sorry for the gloom. Silvery stuff today is; the end is in sight, Z was still chatting about last night on the way home from school today, the sunshine penetrates to my bones, I’ve manoeuvred the last slab into place – now I get to plant up the (vast) gaps, painting eggs after school is messy fun – the kids insist theirs have to be hard-boiled and not blown, after some hasty boiling we have a couple –  Ida steals Lexys and we find her eating it under the table. Bad baby. Luckily it all ends well.

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