I have never been a big fan of my own birthday.
As the "sensitive to stimuli" type, the ruckus with the cake and the singing and the other kids and the protocol and the pressure makes it clear that I would have made a lousy Head of State. Perfectionism often shows itself in fear, as it did 2 hours before my 5th birthday party when I was practicing the "clothespins in the milk bottle game" so that I would be sure to get it ABSOLUTELY CORRECT.
("Perfectionism-driven fear" is why A is my perfect spouse. While I am fussing about making the hole in the wall...Should it start here? Here? How big? What shape?....he just makes it. After that, I'm okay and feel fine about pitching in. I'm also great in emergencies that require action over thinking...like cat hairballs at 3:00 a.m. I excel at dealing with stuff like that.)
So, how is it that my fellow birthday travelers this month--my nephew, J.C. and my godson, Jake--are the epitome of cool and composed at birthday time? Besides being incredibly handsome and smart, they are SO COOL!!! And my friend Beth? And other recent birthday travelers, (sis-in-law) Kjerstin and (niece/godaughter) Morgan? Gorgeous, smart, composed, cool.
This is not something that they have learned or inherited from me. (sigh)
Did I mention that I have no memory, am horrible at acknowledging other people's birthdays on time and have not yet unpacked the official "birthday calendar"? I know I am forgetting someone. Probably you.
I am an awful, aging person with no brain cells. From stripping wood. Please forgive me.
(The cards are all from the house. From a box. Of a million different cards. Late 1800's through 1940's. Please. If it is your birthday, accept one of these sentiments from me. With my gratitude for the person that you are and who I appreciate you to be all 365 days of the year. Not just one.)