Another year wiser? Sure, I’ll take that.
At any rate, this is what has happened in the past year:
Rob moved down from Indiana to start his new job at Friendly Ford. I went with a friend to Kentucky to the horse races. We got our puppy, Max. We bought a brand spankin’ new house in little Ozark, Missouri. We celebrated birthdays and anniversaries, and I spent the rest of the year decorating our new house. Lucy made a new best friend for whom she picked out special “best friend” necklaces. Whenever she sees this friend she makes sure I put her necklace on first, so her friend will see her wearing it with pride. Heartbreakingly sweet. Will learned how to be a terrible two. And a loveable two. And a sneaky two. I learned how to embrace the good, and how to give the bad a swift kick in the pants. I also realized I am not as young as I want to be, and never will be again…so time to just enjoy being me now.
I decided this year, for the first time, I do not want a fancy party. No surprise event. No expensive dinner.
I will be 31.
Isn’t it kind of ridiculous to be throwing a party at this point? I mean sure when I’m 40 cover the house in black crepe paper, put a tombstone in the front yard, whatever. But 31 just isn’t important. All I want this year is the same thing I do every year for my birthday. Go to the Springfield Cardinals home opener. I’m sure Rob will elaborate and have something special planned, he is very good at doing sweet things for me and buying me sparkly lovelies. And I love that he takes the time to do special things for me.
I just feel that it’s time to be a little grown up and realize I don’t need a birthday week or birthday month to feel important. When did all that start anyway? Who decided a birthDAY wasn’t good enough anymore? I told someone my birthday is next week, and they immediately got super excited and yelled “OMG happy birthmonth!!” Whaaa? I don’t need all that. I know I’m important, and don’t need to spend the entire month of April telling everyone so.
Am I excited for my birthday? Heck yes. It means I’m still alive. Just don’t expect me to post on my Facebook “OMG it’s my birthmonth!!!! 
I love 31!!!! ” Expect a pic of my kids, pets, or anything else instead.
