Sunday was my 29th birthday. I have celebrated my 29th birthday for 8 years now. 😉
As a birthday present to myself, I have decided to begin an on-line journal, or should I say blog. For quite sometime now, I have been wanting to blog on a real blogging site, not just posting on myspace or adding discussion threads to entertain the moms in my mommy group. I mean real, honest to God blogging, like real writers do.
I’ve heard to reach an audience as a writer, you need exposure and what better way to do that then blogging. Besides, good writers must constantly write in order to refine their craft and become better writers. I don’t know if what I do is any real craft by any means, but it’s good for the brain.
As I’ve already mentioned, Sunday was my birthday. I spent the day at the beach with my family: Allan (my husband of 8 years), Allana (my oldest daughter, age 6.5) and Emmalynn Jaime (3). It sounds like a lovely day, right? Can you picture my family frolicking joyfully in the sand under the warm Florida sun?
Well, that isn’t at all what happened.
I woke up early and decided to go for an early Sunday morning run. After a 7 mile run in the blazing heat and humidity, I returned home to find my oldest daughter decorating the house for my birthday. She informed me that my birthday breakfast of Kashi cereal was waiting for me on the table. My husband was still in bed and my youngest daughter was watching TV in the playroom. Obviously, we would not be getting an early start for the beach.
I awoke Allan and told him I was jumping in the shower to cool down after my run. After my shower, I threw on my swimsuit and headed downstairs. My family sat around the kitchen table waiting to give my present. Allana hands me a shoebox fastened with a sparkly pink sash. I opened the box. Inside, there was a new hot pink and white polka dot pajama top, a small stuffed dachshund toy, a few coins, a digital chicken watch and a compass. Then, Allan handed me a birthday card and said, “I’m sorry but I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t know what to get you.”
So, I swallow my disappointment and remind my family that we are heading to the beach today for my birthday. “Oh. You still want to go? Allan replied.
“Yes, that was the plan, right?”
“Well, it’s kind of late and I know you wanted to head out early.”
“If we get moving, we can still get an early start,” I replied. Then, I realized that the girls were not dressed and nothing has been packed or loaded into the car for the beach.
And then, Allan became the miserable man he often turns into when he is forced to something he doesn’t want to do. He can’t just suck it up and take one for the team. Any SAHM (or any mother for that matter) will know what I am talking about. We are constantly forced to do things for the sake of our family, like washing poop out of panties, for example. Not my idea of a picnic at the park, but somebody has got to do it.
So instead of making the day the best birthday possible for the birthday girl, it quickly turned into a-not-so-great birthday for Mommy. My children fought and whined the entire time at the beach. My DH wore a puss as he sat under our beach umbrella. He didn’t build sandcastles with his children. He didn’t swim in the gulf with his girls. He just sat there like a bump on a log. Yay.
As the day went on, I became more and more frustrated with thoughts on how I received no gift from my DH followed by a miserable time at the beach. I was so upset. How could he not know what to get me for my birthday? For months, I mentioned on multiple occasions how I wanted new running shoes. I also commented many times that I needed an apron. Now, I know men are not the best listeners and often tune out their wives, but after 13 years together, how could he not think of something?
Two years ago, he bought me a weeping willow tree which he planted in the backyard with the girls. I loved that present! Last year, he planned a surprise party with my girlfriends. That was a GREAT birthday!
I understand that times are tight with the rising cost of gas and groceries, so I wasn’t expecting anything extravagant, but I was expecting a little something more than miserable company at the beach.