Hello, Thirty Three.

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13th January 1982 was a good day. I arrived.

I have learned, loved, and definitely lived. So far, so good.

My twenties were a blur of good, largely drunken times and the arrival of 30 was a welcome one. I partied for about two weeks when the big 3-0 arrived.

Thirty one and thirty two were birthdays that kinda just came and went. There was some gathering of people for both, though not on the scale of 2012.

I expected 33 to be fairly unremarkable really. It’s not a big birthday. It’s not on a weekend. I won’t really be seeing many people.

Thirty three feels different.

I sat on the eve of my birthday working for four hours on a spreadsheet. I enjoyed it. I didn’t have wine, but I did have ice cream.

Now, as I get ready for bed I contemplate what to wear. Do I wear that lovely silky nightdress and wake up feeling all ‘sexy mature woman’ tomorrow? I decide against that, because quite frankly it slides up around my waist and my bum gets cold. Completely impractical. And besides, it wouldn’t look at all right with these comfy knickers.

So here I am. Dressed like a lion, in my fleece pyjamas, looking like a right twit. I won’t wake up feeling silky and sexy, but I will wake up warm and comfy. And, erm, lion-y. And happy.
With any luck the kids will stay in bed all night, I’ll not wake up till 7am and that’ll be the first win of the day.

There will be no birthday lie-in for me, no day off work. A small collection of birthday cards will line the window sill and the best ones will be the handmade ones from the boys. I’ll probably be stressed by 8 and mutter bad words at temporary traffic lights. It won’t be a particularly special day.

Because I genuinely feel like every day is a special day. I don’t need fancy pjs, breakfast in bed or a day off to do as I please. I have what I need and what I want. I have hope for the future and gratitude for the present.

The plan for tomorrow is to meet my sister for a dog walk and lunch, pick the kids up from school and have a movie night. First though, I’ll be taking my dear granny to an appointment.

Birthdays have stopped being all about me. I don’t need to feel special or dress differently. This year I’m looking back at my life so far. Evaluating it and assessing it. I like most of what I see.

I’m also looking ahead. I see smiles and laughter, I see me following my heart, I see me working towards my goals. I see my family.

Hello, thirty three.

Let’s go.

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1 Comment

  1. Hayley

    Happy birthday! Firstly I wouldn’t class anyone as ‘mature woman’ until at least 40… You’re not over the hill yet. Secondly, I’m looking forward to spending the afternoon with you, so is Dora.. Hope it didn’t snow like the lady on the tele said it would last night! (I haven’t got out of bed yet to check!)
    Lastly, lionesses can be sexy and no one likes a cold bum so good choice on the PJ’s lol xx

    Reply

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