Katdish.net

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The first week of August around here is referred to as Birthday Palooza. My son’s birthday is July 31, my dad’s is August 1, my daughter and my sister share an August 2 birthday and mine is August 5. And that’s just my immediate family. I also have a brother-in-law, sister-in-law and niece with birthdays in either late July or early August.

My birthday always has and most probably always will be shared with family, and I’m okay with that. What better way to celebrate your birthday than your family? My sister found a birthday card which sums up this sentiment rather nicely:

inside card

It’s funny because it’s true. We put the fun in dysfunctional.

Anyway, this year I turned 47, which is weird, because for the life of me I thought I turned 47 LAST year. As a matter of fact, if you were to search blog posts I’ve written over the past year, you will find that I’ve often referred to myself as being 47. When I was 46. Weird, huh?

Many of you may be thinking to yourselves, “How can a person not know how old they are? Was she born under mysterious circumstances? Was she left on her parents’ doorstep as a baby and her actual age is merely a educated guess?”

No. I know the day I was born. August 5, 1965. I have my birth certificate as proof. My only defense is that I honestly don’t think much about my age. Also, I suck at math.

How did I come to the realization that I was turning 47 and not 48?

Because a couple of weeks ago, my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday. This question lead to the next:

“How old are you, again?”

“I’m 47…I think. I’m pretty sure I’m 47,” I said.

“What year were you born?”

“1965.”

“It’s 2012. If you were born in 1965, how old does that make you?” he asked.

Me: “You know I suck at math.”

Him: “You’re 46. You’ll be 47 on your birthday.”

Me: “Okay then. Good to know.”

So, Happy 47th birthday to me again! I’m not sure whether to be glad not to be 48 yet or sad that I never enjoyed being 46.

No matter. I’m just grateful to have celebrated another birthday. Whichever one it happens to be.

Thanks to you all for the birthday greetings via Facebook and Twitter. You made my 40-somethingth birthday that much more special.

On August 5, 1965 a family of five became a family of six.

The first born child, a daughter, was doted upon, as most first borns tend to be.

The second child, also a daughter, was the apple of her father’s eye.

With the third child, the couple had a son. Someone to carry on the family name.

The fourth child was another daughter. Unplanned and unexpected. Well cared for and loved, but nothing particularly special.

She wasn’t smart like her sisters, or athletically gifted like her brother.

She talked a lot.

She was sort of clumsy.

To compete for attention, she became a world class whiner.

When that brought undesirable results, such as regular beatings from her siblings, she discovered another way to garner attention.

She figured out she could make people laugh, even if it meant that laughter came at her own expense. She was really okay with that.

Forty-six years later, much has changed and much has not.

She still talks a lot.

She’s still sort of clumsy.

She’s not much of a whiner anymore, although she still has her moments.

She still likes to make people laugh, even if it’s at her own expense. She’s really okay with that. Still.

She’s a wife, a mother, daughter, sister, a friend, an encourager, a reader, writer, painter, a singer and a worshipper. Some other stuff, too.

She fails miserably at all of the above at times. Sometimes she gets it right, but never all on the same day.

She doesn’t think her birthday is such a big deal. Never has, really. But appreciates the birthday wishes anyway.

Happy Birthday to me.

I never thought I’d live this long. (I wish I were kidding.)

But I’m grateful I did.

O, I believe
Fate smiled and destiny
Laughed as she came to my cradle
Know this child will be able
Laughed as she came to my mother
Know this child will not suffer
Laughed as my body she lifted
Know this child will be gifted
With love, with patience and with faith
She’ll make her way