I got a text from my friend Leslie yesterday that said, “I’m thinking you must be REALLY sick since it’s already June 13th and I haven’t heard a single thing about your birthday.” Not to worry, dear Leslie. While I haven’t written about it, my family receives thrice-weekly reminder emails with my updated birthday wishlist from Pinterest.

And yes. I want, nay, expect presents from my family. I put thought into the presents I give my family members. I keep notes on each of them, jotting down when they mention something in passing that they might like. If I had a million dollars I’d spend half of it on other people because I love giving presents and making people happy. The thought DOES count. And you know, when I am laying in bed, sore from puking my guts out for almost a week, I like being able to think, “in less than two weeks, you get pretty things!” I’m shallow, whatever.

Birthday girl
my expression says, “Where are my presents?!

I’m not sure what I’m going to do to celebrate the big three two. I love throwing parties, and we haven’t had one in a long time – just Annie’s birthday in January. Birthday parties combine my two loves – I get to be surrounded by the people I love, and I get to make them happy with food and drink. Mike (Mr. Practical) reigns in my party tendencies, but for my birthday he really can’t say no.

Right now all my friends are thinking “oh nooooo not another theme party!” Man. You make your friends dress in yellow for your Golden Birthday and force them to play Dance Dance Revolution all night and they never let you forget it.


Adults aren’t too old for bounce houses, right?

Last year I declared it the year of Thirty Fun. I went to places I’d never been, took time to just be with girl friends, and forced myself to do things outside my comfort zone. I enjoyed amazing new experiences, but now Thirty Fun is drawing to an end. I need to figure out a new “mantra” for thirty two – something that will require me to emerge from my home. It’s so easy for me to stay inside, curl up, and let the world spin around me. I need to not be such a hermit this year.

I need a new theme. Thirty POO, as my nephew suggested, doesn’t quite have the right ring to it.