30, Flirty and Thriving? More like 30..depressed and a mess

Ever since I was little, I have always been crazy about my

birthday. I want the whole shebang, the whole kit, and caboodle, the whole 9 yards, I

am that type of person. I do not know what or why I became that way, I do not know if it was being an only child for 4 years until a younger brother came swooping in stealing all my attention (okay...may not that but he did steal away my chance at a Disney Cruise and for THAT I will never forgive him...dramatic eye roll).

We never had huge birthday bashes with carnivals, or DJs, the stuff you see on TV. So, I am not sure where my extreme fascination with birthdays came from, but I am that person everyone hates.

Exhibit 1: I can still vividly remember my 10th birthday when we went to Appleby’s for dinner (I still standby Appleby’s is a great restaurant, and I am heartbroken they are hard to find nowadays). At Appleby’s, you get a free dessert and the whole waitstaff to sing you Happy Birthday…you get the whole shebang! While I “patiently” waited for the attention to be turned on me from the entire restaurant I went to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, I could hear it! I could hear the start of Happy Birthday! I WAS GOING TO MISS MY MOMENT!

Thankfully, my mom knew if I missed that moment, the whole town would hear me crying for days, weeks, months…let us face it I probably still would be crying over it today. She stopped the staff and asked them to come back in a few minutes, so I could have the moment I was waiting for, the attention I was dreaming of since my last birthday. Not all superheroes wear capes.

Exhibit 2: My elementary school up until 4th grade ended their day at 2:43 PM. I am almost 32 years old, and I can remember that because I was born at 2:43 PM, and on my birthday I thought it was the COOLEST thing that the bell rang at my time of birth. I cannot remember what I had for breakfast, if I took my multivitamin, or who is who for my children, but I can remember 2:43 PM. I know, I know…judge away, I am the weird birthday girl.

Exhibit 3: I count down my next birthday until the moment my birthday is over. On November 14th, I will start with the ½ birthday comments. February 14 ¾ birthday comments, and from there, I remind people monthly just to give them a heads up. I like to think I am looking out for them??? Maybe that is how I can spin it not to sound as crazy as I am.

Here’s some proof:

So now that you get the picture of my crazy birthday way of life, you will see how my 30th birthday was so vastly different and not from what you would normally expect.

I was not afraid or nervous about turning thirty. Sure, it was not a year that I was like ‘woohoo, how cool' about it, but I also felt I had accomplished a lot by thirty. I graduated from college, was married, had two amazing little boys, and lived in a beautiful house. From a checklist standpoint, I was sure checking off a lot of boxes, but for my thirtieth birthday, I would have to uncheck a box that I thought I would maybe uncheck at 50,60, maybe even 70. I had to uncheck the box of having a dad. Ton passed away two months before my thirtieth birthday, and the closer my birthday approached, the harder I was having with the thought of during thirty.

It was not the number that was making it hard, not that I was no longer going to be able to tell people I was in my twenties, but I felt like I was closing out the decade that held on to Ton. He knew me in my twenties; he saw what I did, what I had accomplished, and we were together for the twenties. I felt like I was closing the door on our memories, stories, and tales when I was opening a new decade by turning thirty.