The Second Worst Birthday

When I was 6 years old, I knew that I had already had the worst birthday of my life. Two days before I was to turn six, my most favorite and also only great-grandma died of a sudden heart attack just after she'd set the table and put dinner out. While other summer babies were celebrating surviving kindergarten and having parties in the yard, I attended the funeral of my lovely great grandma and spent the rest of the afternoon locked in my room for making a scene at the funeral because they insisted on burying her with her glasses on and I thought that if she was to look like she was sleeping, why make her wear glasses? Unfortunately, I asked this question aloud and my father, thinking me both rude and obstinant, decided an afternoon in my room would straighten me right out. We couldn't have cake because we were in mourning and I think only my grandma happened to even MENTION the fact that it was my birthday. At six, that seemed like rock bottom and I have held that notion since, though this day comes in a close.

Thankfully, we are all well and no one has suffered or died - physically speaking, that is. But things are changing and fast and in a way that makes me feel certain that this stage of change is just that - a stage. A stage is a series of steps that lead to something unknown, non?

On this day, to celebrate that I've FINALLY turned 37 - as I seem to have lost my ability to count and determined that I am turning 37 for three years in a row, I began the day off by starting right to work finishing up two orders that were due last week. Only, last week was a series of stops and starts that left me so flustered most of the time that I had a really hard time concentrating on much. It seems that the seasonal and somewhat biennial occurrence of marital discord is upon us. There's no debating that hubster and I have been in a funk both on our own and together for a bit. And it's an old issue that we've both worked on but seems to be rearing its ugly head again. There's been talk of how to change our situation and working together to heal it is an option less offered than giving up. I don't know what else to say about that other than that 16 years is a long time to put yourself into something and still have it be such a struggle. At this point, I think I want to do what is best for someone else (like the things) and just accept that it is what it is - and stop fearing that if I don't fix it, it will be my fault. So, when I say the man forgot it was my birthday, you can kinda see that that pales in comparison to what else has been forgotten.

So, I did what I needed to do, worked, tried to spend a bit of time with things 1,2, and 3 (they made me a card and keychain - how sweet!) and the remainder of my day will go as thus: finish dyeing yarns, eat something like crackers because it is dollar night at the theatre and hubster is taking the kids to the movies only there isn't enough time for that AND for me to run into the grocery and get something for dinner so he's just going to take them (we still share a car) to get pizza and a movie while I stay home, eat crackers, and work on fiber orders.

Uhm, 37 - you suck!