I think I do birthdays pretty well. I take the day off from work and do something for myself ( both of which should be required by law, in my opinion).
This year, I took a (much needed) day off from work and since it was Friday, it was a lovely way to have a long weekend. I had a massage in the morning and had plans to do some shopping alone in the afternoon, but I was so relaxed after that I hung out at home the rest of the day, watching movies and reading. It was pretty lovely. Little Man, Q, and my mom went out to dinner on Saturday night as a little celebration and the previous weekend we had fancy adult dinner with my brother and sister-in-law, complete with my annual birthday bubbly ( champagne should also be required for birthdays).
I’ve never been one for big birthday celebrations- with the exception of my Sweet 16 where there was a big party with DJ and karaoke, I don’t think I’ve ever had huge parties. As a kid, there were limited options for an early March birthday since the weather could be anywhere from winter cold to early spring. There were a lot of bowling parties or celebrations at local eateries that did special things like Friendly’s ( a New England-based restaurant known for their ice cream).
I have no qualms about turning another year older as I think the next few years are going to have a lot of changes for me- maybe moving, maybe growing our family, maybe exploring creative outlets and making steps in my career. I joked around with a few friends that I thought the 30s were supposed to be the time when you felt like you were finally getting life right, since it hasn’t quite seemed that way for me.
I know part of that feeling for me is wrapped up in the sadness about losing Dad– another reminder that grief is a weird life mate. It’s strange to say that I lost him at a pivotal moment in life since I was an adult when it happened, unlike people who lose a parent at important development years in their youth or teenage years. For me, I lost Dad exactly at the moment that I thought I had it all figured out- stable job, new, healthy relationship, and so on. Maybe that’s why God took him when he did- my father, ever the protector, worrier, and fixer– knew that things in life were set and he was better served as guardian angel to us all. Sometimes it’s the only thing that helps me get over some sad moments. But for me now as I question what’s next for me and what I want, I’d kill to have his advice and talk it out with him.
It’s also weird to think at 33 that I really feel like I’m at a point to make things happen that I want. Sure, there might never be enough money or time, but I don’t feel the angst of the 20s. I know that if I trust myself, things are going to happen as they should. I might not have money to re-do my kitchen, but maybe the answer is to just sell the house and find a place that Q and I can make our own together, instead of a house that my ex-husband and I bought together that we live in.
Lots of people are set in their lives at 33– house, kids, job– all set and happy to stay that way. Maybe those are the people who have midlife crises at 45 or something. I don’t feel like my life is in crisis, but it’s definitely in transition, so even as I embrace the current state of uncertainty, I feel confident that 33 is going to be a great year for me.