Yeah, well, I guess it's about the same as being 39...only you get slightly more interest in your birthday because you are now officially Over the Hill.
So my birthday was sort of odd. I was in a really bad mood -- as in grouchy and ill-tempered in an almost pre-menstrual way from lack of sleep. This was due to the baby deciding the night before to have a big fuss party from 2am on. Not a nice birthday present for mommy, baby. Not nice at all. :-(
Then we had to get gas. Filling up the car used to be a sort of afterthought to all your other daily activities, but these days due to the incomprehensible gas crisis it is like foraging for food in the Ice Age. It takes precedence over every other thing. You are always scanning the internet, networking with people and keeping an eagle-eye out for available gas. Scott took the day off work because he had a meeting about refinancing the house and because he wanted to take me out to lunch and stuff. But our tanks were near empty so he spent the whole morning driving all over Asheville trying to find a station that had some. Luckily, he spotted a gas truck pulling into a station near our house during one of his searches and followed it in, making himself first in line. He then called me and I had to pull the baby (and myself) away from a potentially wonderful nap to go get in the monumental line for the pumps.
Because Scott is awesome and I am loved, I did get to go out to lunch at Salsa's and pick out a box of assorted truffles at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge, but the baby fussed all through lunch so I ate by myself while Scott walked her around the restaurant. Phooey. Foiled again by that deceptively adorable baby!
Then we just had a quiet evening -- take out (so I didn't have to cook) and ice cream cake and watching "Harold and Maude" for the first time since college.
It was a really enjoyable birthday other than my own sleep-deprived grumpiness and generalized self-pity. But what got me to thinking it a bit odd was this: Earlier in the day my X called to wish me happy birthday and acted suprised that I wasn't having a party. Hmm...a party. What a novel thought! It actually never even occurred to me, but I guess it would have been a fun thing to do.
But let's face it -- I'm 40. A nap seems more appealing than a round of tequila shots most of the time. Much of that has to do with the fact that I'm keeping up with a new baby and have to get up every morning in drill sargent mode to force a third grader to get ready for school. But maybe I've mellowed just a wee bit...