Yesterday was my birthday. The big 2-8. I woke up full of optimism for the day. I selfishly decided at the last minute to reschedule Logan’s speech evaluation for next week so he could go to school and I could do whatever I wanted for 5 whole hours. I dropped the kids off and headed to Kohl’s. I scored some cute shirts and a dress, all for 80% off. Not too shabby at all! But as I was leaving Kohl’s, I started to get lonely. I was hungry and wanted to go eat lunch somewhere good. But I didn’t want to go by myself. Unfortunately, all my Houston friends were not available for lunch…okay, truth be told, I didn’t call anyone because I felt silly. “Hey, did you remember that today was my birthday? Want to do lunch?” Yeah, not so much. So instead, I cried. I came home and cried because I wanted to go to lunch with someone. And I started thinking about how Derek wasn’t even going to be home until late that night, and I had no plans for my birthday. No special birthday dinner, no presents waiting for me on the table, no cake, nothing. So I cried some more. (Hey, I’m pregnant and I can cry about whatever I want!) I moped around for a good hour, and finally pulled myself together. I decided to go to the scrapbook store for a little more retail therapy. But, as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, I started crying again! I. Am. Out. Of. Control. I turned around and came home. I watched One Tree Hill instead. RyAnn called. I cried again. Finally, it was time to go get the boys from school. We went to the grocery store, and when I got home, I found a message from my brother. “Happy Birthday! Hope your day is awesome! Oh, and Kathy is sick and not going to work tomorrow…so…the ultrasound is off.” You see, today, my sister-in-law was going to do an ultrasound and we were hoping to find out the sex of the baby. Can you guess what I did when I got the message? Yup. I cried. Again. I managed to pull myself together for the remainder of the evening. Derek called at 6:45 and asked what I wanted for dinner. He arrived 30 minutes later, bearing yummy food and a dozen roses. Then he asked how my day was.
I cried again.
It’s really not that my birthday was bad, because it wasn’t. It’s just that I am an emotional mess. And, birthdays simply aren’t as much fun as a grown up, but I really want them to be. Am I alone is this??
On a happier note, my husband helped me record this yesterday. By my count, it’s approximately 156 bpm. Pretty amazing! (Blogliners, you have to come to the blog to listen.)