A Little Cracked: Birthday Lines

I’ve always been really excited by my birthdays.  The air was different, everyone was nice to me.  When I was a kid, I actually made wishes when I blew out the candles.  Most of them came true.  And the seconds after the candles are out is still the best scent, ever.

This year, I feel every one of my years, and I’ve decided that that’s OK.

‘It’s Mummy’s birthday, you have to be extra nice to her today,’ Neil says to Isla on Saturday.

‘You married her, that’s your job,’ says my girl to her Dad.

I may have pee-pee laughed at that.  I am 37, after all.

Never-ending Eskimo kisses from Isla and coffee from Neil that I didn’t have to drop hints for.  Awesome day.

And I have to share this somewhere.  I got a birthday card from a clothing catalogue company.  I’ve only ever bought one pair of shoes from them.  Thanks, Joe Brown’s.  That’s some freakish marketing, right there.

Did I mention that Neil found me a Baileys Easter Egg online and that Isla also calls my birthday Judge Judy Day?  There’s that, too.  It’s nice to be known.

I thanked everyone in real life and on Facebook for the birthday wishes.  All my new grey hairs are indeed named Fred.  I like them.  We can work together.

We were supposed to have a Poker night at Dad and Anne’s, but I’m old.  So we waited and had an Easter Egg hunt for Isla in their garden the next day.

Thank you for staying up til 3 am to dye eggs.  I shall never forget it.

‘Campah, I found another one, it’s a little cracked.’

Aren’t we all?

After Isla found all the eggs, she peeled them.  She didn’t eat them, but she peeled them.  Of course, she ate all the chocolate eggs.  And we brought some peanut butter bunnies from my Mom’s Easter box.

‘These are mine,’ I announced to anyone who’d listen.

They didn’t taste as good as when I was a kid.  Too much sugar.  I am old.

And last night, I had plans to write good words and drink good coffee.  Happy New Year to me.  Instead, I helped Isla find some unicorns before she sugar-crashed into dreamland.  And I tried to watch the end of Santa Clarita Diet.  But I fell asleep, too.

This morning, along with my new notebook, I made some pledges:

Write every day.

Post three times a week (for real)

Kick ass.

Enjoy everything and make sure Isla never stops singing.

Repeat.

Happy New Year.

What’s your mantra for the year?  Are you sticking to it?