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Birthdays. A celebration of the day one is born. A day for parties, cake, singing, glitter, new outfits, nights out and presents. Birthdays are days for love.
I am sitting here, it is my birthday today and I’m the grand ole age of 46. I have completed a mornings work, the kids are at an after-school club and the 4.30pm school pick up is like an extra bank holiday. But it’s got me thinking about birthdays and in particular, mine. When did they become a day to skip over and just get through and not about all of the joyous things?
Clearly
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motherhood is the main factor here and probably the root cause of our own birthdays becoming less the main focus within a family. In our house, the birthday season has just ended. We start in February and all of our birthdays are done by May. Mine being the last one and by the end of it, I’m completely ‘birthday’ed’ out and I couldn’t give a holy crap about my day. But that’s a little sad right?
My Mum and indeed my parents really celebrated birthdays. We did them big. Well to me it was normal, until I met my husband, he barely got a
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supermarket cake from his parents for his trouble and his eyes became misty, when I produced his first birthday cake, from me. Home baked, wonky but full of love. It was to be the start of many.
I love celebrating birthdays and when we adopted our two children 3 years ago, I was only ever going to repeat my Mum’s way of rejoicing by showering love, being attentive while celebrating this special day with them. Although for the first couple of years, I couldn’t help but think of their birth families, especially their Birth Mum and how they would all
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be feeling. Some might say I was too sentimental, some (of my family) sniffed at my compassion for these strangers, yet I found my children’s birthdays a real chore, emotionally exhausting and I wondered if I would ever feel the delight I had hoped for. Thankfully, as time has passed, I am fully able to embrace their birthdays and enjoy the excitement in their faces. I had never really known how that would make my heart burst with pride, but it has, and I am ever so thankful for that.
But as I sit and think about my birthday, I’ve realised, they
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must be treasured and celebrated, in whatever way you chose. Some loved ones or friends are taken from us too soon and cannot celebrate anymore and for that I am honoured to have reached the age I am. I might not have a wild boozy night out planned tonight, with friends galore, but who cares. I am more than happy to celebrate with someone a little controversial. Myself. That’s right, just me.
I am thrilled to celebrate another year on this planet, I am still working, being a great friend, I have a social conscious, I support the community I live in,
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but mainly, I look after my family. I’m not quite where I want to be for me yet, but the next 12 months is the time to plan just that and I’m very excited about it.
Happy birthday to me!
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Sarah - 7 May 19
Birthdays. A celebration of the day one is born. A day for parties, cake, singing, glitter, new outfits, nights out and presents. Birthdays are days for love.
I am sitting here, it is my birthday today and I’m the grand ole age of 46. I have completed a mornings work, the kids are at an after-school club and the 4.30pm school pick up is like an extra bank holiday. But it’s got me thinking about birthdays and in particular, mine. When did they become a day to skip over and just get through and not about all of the joyous things?
Clearly motherhood is the main factor here and probably the root cause of our own birthdays becoming less the main focus within a family. In our house, the birthday season has just ended. We start in February and all of our birthdays are done by May. Mine being the last one and by the end of it, I’m completely ‘birthday’ed’ out and I couldn’t give a holy crap about my day. But that’s a little sad right?
My Mum and indeed my parents really celebrated birthdays. We did them big. Well to me it was normal, until I met my husband, he barely got a supermarket cake from his parents for his trouble and his eyes became misty, when I produced his first birthday cake, from me. Home baked, wonky but full of love. It was to be the start of many.
I love celebrating birthdays and when we adopted our two children 3 years ago, I was only ever going to repeat my Mum’s way of rejoicing by showering love, being attentive while celebrating this special day with them. Although for the first couple of years, I couldn’t help but think of their birth families, especially their Birth Mum and how they would all be feeling. Some might say I was too sentimental, some (of my family) sniffed at my compassion for these strangers, yet I found my children’s birthdays a real chore, emotionally exhausting and I wondered if I would ever feel the delight I had hoped for. Thankfully, as time has passed, I am fully able to embrace their birthdays and enjoy the excitement in their faces. I had never really known how that would make my heart burst with pride, but it has, and I am ever so thankful for that.
But as I sit and think about my birthday, I’ve realised, they must be treasured and celebrated, in whatever way you chose. Some loved ones or friends are taken from us too soon and cannot celebrate anymore and for that I am honoured to have reached the age I am. I might not have a wild boozy night out planned tonight, with friends galore, but who cares. I am more than happy to celebrate with someone a little controversial. Myself. That’s right, just me.
I am thrilled to celebrate another year on this planet, I am still working, being a great friend, I have a social conscious, I support the community I live in, but mainly, I look after my family. I’m not quite where I want to be for me yet, but the next 12 months is the time to plan just that and I’m very excited about it.
Happy birthday to me!
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