So, my birthday was Monday. i have never been an “it’s my birthday, celebrate me for days” kind of person, but like most people, I appreciate a hug, a card, a gift. I look forward to a day of “wow you’re awesome” — sue me. I’m a little self involved.
But, i digress…
Last Saturday we received a phone call that our daughter needed some back up. Son in law had an emergency work trip. So I packed up a bag and headed over. A three week old, two year old and four year old makes for a hectic house, I was happy to help.
But, as the weekend progressed and my birthday loomed…I realized that my other two hadnt called, hadnt arranged to see me over the weekend …. no cards had come in the mail, no flowers delivered. Moms feelings were hurt.
I took a break from grammy care and went home Sunday. Lay on the couch and had myself a good cry. Feeling exceptionally sorry for myself, ignored, taken for granted, you name it, I felt it. then my husband came home with the only ugly coat that London Fog had ever made, in a bag, for me. No way, take it back.
coerced my husband into bringing up the first Christmas tree. I always have the angel tree up on my birthday. spent an hour setting it up, plugged it in, 2 sections of lights OUT. Of course….
So, here it was, the day before my birthday. There was no party, no cake, no Angel Tree….poor pitiful me.
Dragged my sad self back to daughter’s house where her kids presented me with a couple of great cards : signed by them! and a picture that the two year old had drawn of a rainbow. That helped. At least someone realizes…..grammy needs a cuddle.
And then the palooza began. Youngest daughter, husband ( during an eagles game!) , her two kids, my husband and my inlaws descended upon us. There was CAKE! and Cards and drawings from the babies…..AAHHH…..
What was it i was whining about??