Some memories from birthdays past…

:: The first birthday I remember was either my fourth or fifth birthday.  I got a pretty purple and white bonnet and little-girl purse.  I loved them.  I also seem to remember my parents painting the room we were in as I opened the gifts.

::  When I turned 6, I asked my mom if I could have a birthday party…like the day before my birthday.  We had moved to a new home, a new school, only a couple months before so I didn’t really know anyone, but my mom called the parents of most of the kids in my class to invite them to a party the next day.  I think five or six of them came and I was happy for that, but at the end of the day, I remember feeling like I had imposed greatly on these people that didn’t know me…and I was amazed that my mom did something [that I thought was] so scary like calling up people she didn’t know for me.

:: For my tenth birthday, I got my hair cut – above shoulder length, with poofy bangs.  And I requested and received a meatball sub for dinner.  Obviously, my sophisticated taste started early.

:: My twelfth birthday was only a few days before Easter, so I took my birthday money and bought Easter candy for my siblings, since my parents didn’t have money for candy.  I was sick Easter morning, but I got up early and, with one of my brothers, divided the candy into bowls (we didn’t have baskets) and hid them around the house.  Best thing I ever did with birthday money.

:: On my fourteenth birthday, a friend (who wasn’t a Christian) gave me a mug that had a little cartoon on it and the caption “God, kicking some serious butt on Jeopardy”.  It was funny, and it mattered to me that I had managed to communicate what I believed without being offensive…if that makes sense.  I think I still have the mug.

:: When I turned sixteen, nobody wished me happy birthday until my Mom got home from work at 5pm.  My sister and I ate lunch together at school that day and she didn’t remember.  I was obviously upset, so she asked what was wrong.  I replied with “if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you”.  Yeah, I was mature like that.  I am probably still mature like that, sometimes.

:: The next year, my sister felt bad.  She was away at college, but happened to be on her way to Albany (I think?) on my birthday with a friend, so she took a detour to our house to drop off a gift for me.

:: On my nineteenth birthday, I was at college.  The temperature was 80 degrees.  A friend made me lunch and strawberry shortcake (my all-time favorite dessert).

:: For my twentieth birthday, a group of friends threw me a surprise party…under the guise of going shopping, but needing to stop at someone’s apartment to get something.  I was a little suspicious, but thankful for the effort.  I was bothered, though, that Tim chose to go to a rugby game instead of be around for my birthday.  This was when he was pursuing me and I was realizing that my heart toward him had changed.  I think I told him that night, once he was back from his game, how I felt.

:: My roommates threw me a little party on my twenty-first birthday.  I had strawberry shortcake again.  Is it weird I remember food better than other things?

:: My twenty-second birthday was the first as a married lady.  Tim left flowers for me in my car, to be discovered when I got out of work.  My boss also let me leave work a little early.

:: On my twenty-third birthday, I was at a new-ish job.  I got a very noticeable run in my stockings early on in the day.  I made a huge mistake on payroll.  I think my mother-in-law called me at work to wish me a happy birthday.  I don’t remember anything else…just the important stuff.

:: I had my twenty-fourth birthday off of work (a nice perk of my job at the time).  Tim and I went to lunch…I had a honey mustard chicken sandwich.  He had to work late that night, though, so I went out to dinner with his mom.  We went to Red Lobster, but I don’t remember what I ate.  I guess my memory is starting to go in my old age.

::  Caedmon was not yet 2 months old on my twenty-fifth birthday.  I remember nothing from the first 3 months of his life except lots of walking with a crying baby in the middle of the night.

:: My twenty-seventh birthday was the worst ever.  I was alone in a hospital room for most of the day, recovering from my second unwanted c-section.  My baby girl was in the NICU and I didn’t know for sure whether she would live.  Tim was at home most of the day with a fever, Caedmon had hives all over his body – a reaction from an antibiotic given after he had a peanut removed from his lung a week earlier.  But, I did get a mini birthday cake from the hospital with my lunch.

:: I don’t remember twenty-eight or twenty-nine.  My thirtieth birthday, I remember getting chocolates.

:: I got a pair of earrings with Elijah’s birthstone for my thirty-first birthday.  This was normally Tim’s Mother’s Day gift for me, but I guess he didn’t want to wait that year.

:: For my thirty-second birthday, I had told Tim I didn’t want anything, and meant it…and he believed me, and I was hurt.  We ended up going out to dinner, where he’d had flowers delivered and waiting at our table.  Sometimes my rational side and my emotional side don’t agree and cause problems.

:: The day before my thirty-third birthday, Holly drove here from Michigan to surprise me, and brought me a hyacinth plant and took me out to breakfast on my birthday.  Then, we (me, Tim, the kids and Holly) went out to lunch.  Tim made me strawberry shortcake.

::  Every birthday that I have had as an adult, my mom has called me in the morning to wish me a happy birthday.

:: Tim has attempted some sort of birthday cake most years.

…and I think that exhausts my birthday memories.