My birthday is this weekend and I’m trying to be excited for it. I guess I’m stuck between the ages of not wanting to grow older and being comfortable with it. I’ll be 28 years old. I’m trying to remember that. See for a while I told myself I was 25. 25 was a good age for me. I actually convinced myself that I was still 25 and now I’m paying for it because I keep thinking I’m turning 29 haha.

I never really understood why people dreaded getting older until now. We spend most of our teenage years wanting to grow up so we can do whatever we want. Then we grow up and wish we could be 5 again. Funny how that works. I’m not worried about my body aging. That’s going to happen no matter how hard we try to prevent it. I’m more worried about losing my memories. There’s already so many things that I have forgotten and I’m only reminded of them by pictures or journals. Then I see how my mom struggles to remember certain things about her mom or her childhood. I just don’t want to forget the important things….ever. I’m sure that someday I’ll be happy about getting older or maybe I’ll just stop caring.

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That’s me in baby form; the day I was forced from my comfy little bubble of water and handed around for strange people to stare at and talk in weird voices about how cute I was. I’m happy I don’t remember that day!

A few weeks ago I was thinking about what to do for my sons birthday this year and I started thinking about how the parents never get recognized on their kids birthday. I mean, if it wasn’t for them they’d never be here. It’s not just a celebration of growing older, it’s a celebration of the day another life entered this world and the love that made that happen. So I wanted to take a minute to thank my parents.

My dad was such a strong man and always put his family before anyone else. I still remember the time he was laid off from his job. He’d eat crackers and tuna once a day while he made my brother and I three meals a day. He’d go without just to make sure his kids had everything they needed. He didn’t just say that either, he actually proved it. He taught me how to survive, how to be strong and most of all he taught me to never, ever give up. He also taught me how to not put up with anyone’s bull sh*t.

My mom is a beautiful lover and fighter. She’s sweet and kind but has a small mean side to her that I haven’t seen very often. If anyone could have taught me how to be patient it would have been her. Sadly, I didn’t listen very well. She taught me how to humble myself and try to be more understanding to others. She taught me to care about the people in my life. Not just act like I care but really care. She also taught me that sometimes it’s better to just keep my mouth shut. That’s always been hard for me considering my dad taught me the opposite. I’m still learning which one is best in certain situations. My parents weren’t perfect but I’m so very grateful for that. I love them either way.

I don’t really have any special plans for my birthday. I wanted to keep things low key this year so whatever the husband and son plan is what we’ll do. I’m excited to see what those two weirdos come up with. I think that alone will make the entire day worth it.

Happy 25th to me! Oh, wait…that’s not….

via Daily Prompt: Someday

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