That weird week between Christmas and New Years has passed, and now we’re back to our regularly scheduled program. I think. What day is it?
All of my babies are winter babies. Which means we start celebrating birthdays at the beginning of November with Mister P, and end in March with mine. There are so. many. presents. And we don’t even buy them! Since we live in the FROZEN NORTH, the Grandparents send their love via plastic trinkets and clothes. And, since both Mister P and I come from homes of divorce, that’s DOUBLE the presents. Double. eye twitch
And since I’m a practical gift giver….Mister P picks out the gifts for the girls. One for Christmas, one for birthdays. That’s how it’s been for 5 years, and how it will continue to be. I’ve always been the kind of person that loves receiving practical gifts as well! It doesn’t hurt my feelings to get a new Swiffer Wet for my birthday. If anything, I’ll probably be using it by the end of the day, and smiling all the while.
This year, however, I am looking 30 dead in the eye. And instead of being practical and useful, I’d like a completely flippant birthday. I am asking for something priceless: Me time.
I would like to be treated to something crazy, like a massage and a pedicure, or tickets to a movie, by myself.
But since I am a mom of three beautiful children, and a sitter would cost more than the gift, I’ll settle for a bottle of something pink and fruity, and giving me an hour with my headphones on, and scrunched up in our tiny tub.
That’ll do.
