Long time, no talk

 What a slacker I’ve been.  There’s a million reasons why I’ve been slacking when it comes to the blog, but I’m just gonna collectively combine all the excuses for not posting as of late and name it LIFE.  LIFE has been robbing me of creative energy. When I have some free adult time to myself it has been spent eating, or watching television or… showering.  Basically anything involving little-to-no effort!  Since the birth of Mighty hygiene, house cleaning, and creativity have become less important. And I’m semi-okay with that realization.  I mean… as long as all three kids are alive, fed, entertained, and mostly clean I’m doing a pretty damn good job.  I just suck at taking care of ME and doing what I want to do in order to maintain a certain level of sanity and dignity.  For example, it had been so long since I had last washed my hair that I felt compelled to wash it twice.  With two different shampoos.  Yep, I’m that awesome.

I need to figure out how to get motivated and engage my mind once the kiddies are asleep because there is some seriously funny shit happening on the daily that I’ve been neglecting to share because I’m too lazy to relay the information.  But there’s plenty of time for that later, when the memories flash into my head… right now I’m gonna talk about something very important.  Me.

Today, I was putting together some party favors for Famous’ upcoming birthday extravaganza when I realized I’m having a birthday soon too.  Gasp!  How did I forget about ME?  My birthday used to be a very exciting day.  I looked forward to the EVERYTHING MUST PERTAIN TO ME day… so needy, I am.  I think it’s normal for anyone who has a birthday that falls within a few weeks of Christmas to feel this way.  Specifically AFTER Christmas.  I say this because as a kid I cannot express enough how often I heard “I’m still (financially) recovering from Christmas,” or how often I received a Christmas SLASH birthday gift.  Um, no.  They are two different gift-receiving holidays, okay?  You do NOT give a middle child any more of a reason to feel slighted.  I was the quintessential middle child with the needy, overly-honest, totally dramatic, what-about-me, personality.  So, MY birthday was very important to ME.  As I got older that sentiment never faltered, until I had my first child.

 I was forced to surrender my thunder to my first-born child, having given birth to him one week after my beloved day of birth.  I’m not saying anyone made me do it, it just sorta happened.  Our birthdays are so close together one would think a collective birthday celebration could work, but NOOOOOOOOOOO.  Famous has places and people and ideas about how “his day” should be.  Now I spend my birthday week (yeah, I said week) running errands for his birthday hullabaloo.  Don’t get me wrong I take pleasure in bringing such a special day together with his friends and family.  I’ve made him the same cake for his birthday since he was old enough to ask for it. Chocolate Cream Cheese M&M cake. Yummmmmmmm.  BUT. I also miss out on being treated like royalty all week by Hubby.  I used to say things like, ”Babe, carry me to the car… I’m too awesome to walk.”  And he would.  Or, “I’m gonna have wine for breakfast.  Wine and bacon.  Please make it?”  And he would.  Aw, those were the days.  Now when I say it’s my birthday my excitement is met with whiney, gripes like, “Does that mean we have to do what YOU want to do all day?”  Famous, my overly-honest and completely literal being.  “Yes.”  I reply, “That’s EXACTLY what it means now go fetch Mama some grape juice.”  Or my envious Slim would say, “I wish it was MY birthday!”  In his pouty slash angry tone that rears its ugly head fifty times a day, crossing his arms and kicking the nearest object to his right foot.  But what’s most surprising is it’s me that sloughs off any plans that the hubby puts out there for me to weigh in on, “No, I don’t wanna do dinner, you don’t have to cook (be afraid if he did!), don’t buy me a cake… “  All of my energy is spoken for.  I don’t have room for a birthday dinner, where I get dressed up and put mascara on my face and be fancy.  That’s asking too much of me.  It, unfortunately, does not sound like fun.  And it’s so not like me to feel this way!  Or at least the old me. This me is very sleepy. But I digress.

I’ve embraced the fact that I will always be preparing for Famous’ birthday celebration on and around my birthday from here on.  One day I will be excited that my birthday is overlooked.  No one to point out how old I’m getting.  One day…