I got older yesterday!
I know that a vast majority of women in my age range are all busy wailing and moaning about how everything has started to 'fall' and how they're all getting older and how they're all going to be 29 until they die..
I don't have time for that. My Gram turned 95 this year, and she'll proudly tell everyone exactly how old she is--often without any prompting. She's really taught me that being old isn't a thing to be feared--age makes you fearsome. (How fearsome? We won't go into that.)
So I don't mind getting older. Beats the heck out of the alternative.
However, I was a little under the weather for my 34th birthday, so I was unable to take my menfolk shopping for my presents. (Yeah, you read that right. No, I don't mean I take them to a store, point out what I want, and order them to buy it for me. Remember the legally blind husband who doesn't drive?)
They ordered things online, but they didn't get here soon enough. So I had a semi-homemade birthday.
First, the ice cream birthday cake:
Can you spot the 'homemade' part? Honestly, we'd bought the little candy letters for the Kid's birthday cake two weeks ago--and used all of several key letters in my name. This was the best my husband could come up with--thank God we play Scrabble!
I love the blog CakeWrecks, but the guys did a good job not getting me a wreck.
And my present from The Kid:
Semi-Homemade Original Art! If it had one of those little tags under it, this is what it would say:
A mixed media piece made from found objects (in this case, the packaging to a WALL*E toy). The Artist has made a bold use of common household items ("stickers") to evoke the true nature of the character's ability to remake himself in the face of difficulties. This piece, which projects strength and renewal, is available for purchase for $1,395. Please see the curator for more details.
Seriously, we were talking with The Kid during my birthday dinner, and asked if he'd want to do Karate. He said no. We said, well, you have to do something--something sporty, or musical, or arty. And he said, (and I quote), "Mommy, I'm an artist." No word on if I have to start buying him all-black clothes yet.
So, despite Nell, the Sinus Infection from Hell, I had a great semi-homemade birthday with my guys.
Next year, I'm not inviting Nell.