Yesterday, I turned 25.
It was no big deal, really. I’ve been forgetting how old I am for the past year or so, so I sort of thought I was 25 already. And at risk of sounding like a huge baby, a birthday doesn’t really feel like a birthday when I’m not at home. With the exception of one, my first 22 birthdays were spent at home. Since it’s in late spring, I was always home from college. So I’d get to go out to lunch with my parents (or choose what was for dinner), pick a cake and an ice cream, and just sort of get spoiled. I wouldn’t have to do chores, I’d get some presents and cards, and it was nice. I loved my birthday. But my last good birthday was when I turned 22. I had my best friend over, and she, my mom, my little sister and I had a mini bachelorette-party (I was getting married six weeks later). We played the Barbie Game, had root beer floats, and just had fun. I didn’t really realize how good my family, and especially my mom, was at making me feel special until I left.
My 23rd birthday was spent in Sweden. Andreas worked, so I spent most of the day alone, and I remember crying while I was walking to pick him up. Not for any particular reason, but just…because. I made mini chocolate cakes with peanut butter frosting. Andreas was so sweet and got me the box set of Friends. But it didn’t really…feel like a birthday.
My 24th birthday was spent taking a 5-hour written Danish test. I don’t remember if I had time for a cake.
This year, I started my birthday at midnight-forty five to a screaming (probably teething) baby who was up most of the night. I was up for good at 5 am, and feeling right sorry for myself. The day picked up when I met up with my mom-group, but by the time I put Theo to bed, I felt ready to collapse, and Andreas and I both skipped dinner (and cupcakes) and were asleep by 8:30.
But after a better night’s sleep (although the day sort of started at 5 again…) I’m much more optimistic and looking forward to maybe doing a bit of late birthday celebrating over the weekend. The weather should be lovely, and I’ve got knitting group tomorrow for the first time–yes, the knitting group that I’ve been talking about going to for the past two months, that I still haven’t been able to attend, haha! But this time, it seems I’ll be healthy, and Andreas should be able to babysit, so I’m definitely going to make it!
As one last note, 25 should have many fewer sleepless nights than 24, so I have no qualms about getting older this year! Bring on 25!