I am on the eve of my 39th Birthday. March 16th 1978 was a cold and snowy day. In fact, my sister and paternal grandmother made snowmen whilst I was making my arrival into the world.
I would like to think that by now, I had got my shit together It turns out that I don’t and not only do I not, but I seem to be getting further and further away from it.
40 is the first real birthday that I remember my parents having. My dad’s came first (I was 11) and we had the house decorated with bunting and a banner. My mum’s was a further 2 years after that. They were grown ups then, financially secure and on top of life. I think because of this, that is why I feel this looming and feel so poorly prepared. A lot of the time I want to go back to being a child, have foolish thoughts and live with my head in the clouds at times.
I like to use times like this to bring about a change, a fresh start, but this time round it doesn’t feel quite right. Today has been a bit of a head fuck. J is really poorly – she has severe tonsillitis and we are on fever watch. If her temperature doesn’t go down then we’ve got to take her to hospital. We decided that we wanted to go out and get a really good thermometer so we knew it was accurate and on our way tot he chemist, the nearside rear tyre deflated, nigh on instantly! We rolled up to the lights and the tyre was fine, pulled away and it was completely flat. Thankfully we weren’t too far from home so we limped and got the RAC out. Unfortunately they could fix it and we needed to wait until about 10am for them to change the tyre. Mother-in-Law took the children to her house for a sleep over (all except for J as she wasn’t going to school anyway, what with her being so unwell) so as they could get to school because it isn’t within walking distance of where we live.
Tomorrow, I will wake without the usual birthday fanfare of opening cards, with my children away, before having to go to work.