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Yes, thank you, thank you. I am rather chuffed to have survived another year without falling down stairs, or overindulging on M&Ms – both high up on the possible ways I will one day meet my demise.
It is strange how we do that, don't you think? Tick off (or count down) the number of time we’ve revolved around the sun. I think so. But fun strange. A strange I can get on board with.
I don't actually mind the 'getting a year older' thing. It's good being my age, in fact. I remember being told in my twenties that the older you get the less you give a hoot what others think and its true. It's brilliant, in fact! It leaves more room for being in awe of all that you've have, all that you've done, all that you am.
So for all that, I do love a birthday. Mine or anyone else’s. Any chance to indulge in a little giddy delight, I say. To watch someone, anyone, blush and shine under the smiley attention of people who care about them is as close to bliss as it comes. As much of that as possible please.
As a mum the biggest lashing of smiley attention comes from my kids. The cake they’ve decorated so thoughtfully (using dark chocolate buttons for me even though white chocolate is their favourite). The home-made cards (You are the best mum in the world because you hugged me while watching the last Harry Potter even though you cried and I didn’t.) The thoughtful gifts (not one ruler but two! Because I love stationery that much.
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Now there’s not much I wish and hope for that comes from a shop. (Except the beautiful garden swing chair my hubby got for me. Talk about bliss.)
As for a party? Nope. No. Not for me. A terrible host (like really awful, if you ever come to mine please feel free to help yourself to some water as I will be too busy chatting to think to offer it) I’ve never hosted a birthday party for myself. EVER. A tradition I’m happy to continue.
But again, taking any chance I can do indulge in giddy delight, my latest revolution around the sun will be marked. I’ll take up the babysitting offer and go to the movies with my hubby tonight. I’ll drag my babies to the city for a day of exploring this weekend, delighting in their chatter and energy and bright lovely faces as we make memories together. And the Max Brenner for dinner tradition I started last year? That might be a keeper too.
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Do you have any birthday traditions? Throw a massive party in celebration? Balloons, cake, pass the parcel? Hide away and lament the passing time? Light a fire, strip down, howl at the moon? Book yourself into a spa in an effort to halt time just a little?