It’s my birthday. There were big plans involving babysitting, drunkenness, amazing food and a night in a hotel. Sadly they were all cancelled when I did my back in (sleeping on the Hulks bedroom floor, the tinker) leaving me barely able to walk. Then I got tonsillitis. Not really the birthday presents I was expecting, but it’s got me out of the household chores for a bit and that’s a present of sorts!
So on this auspicious day, the anniversary of the ruination of my mothers vagina, I find myself in soft play. It’s not really what I had in mind, but the children needed to do some exercise and its raining. To top this sorry situation off, a small child who looks like Jimmy Kranky just ran over my foot in a Little Tikes car. I was meant to be in a Jacuzzi about now. I was expecting to be slightly hungover. I should have a belly full of something nice (maybe with a reduction of something and a confit of something pretentious with a medley of seasonal vegetables resting on a bed of shredded something.) I shouldn’t really be drinking some crap coffee on a wobbly table while a random toddler goes through my handbag and a crawling baby tries to eat my daughters discarded shoe.
Or should I?? Is this the way of the post children birthday? After all, this is very reflective of my life these days. And is it right to celebrate your birthday without the whole family being there? The kids think birthdays are amazing. The Diva throws parties for her imaginary friend on a weekly basis. They love a birthday. Is it wrong to have desperately wanted to enjoy my birthday without them? I am a mother. I am also a wife, friend, daughter, sister and comrade. Do I get to choose which hat to wear on this, MY special day. And is it a bit wrong that my party hat of choice isn’t the “Mummy” hat?
As it turns out I didn’t get to chose, fate (or the Hulk, depending on how much responsibility you can attribute to a 2 years old for a back injury) took matters out of my hands. So along with most of the Diva’s 5 year old classmates, I’m celebrating my 37th birthday in soft play. I’m half expecting them to wheel out that little trolley of jam sandwiches, cheese batons and cherry tomatoes. I’m waiting for someone to invite me into the party room and hand me one of those annoying little party horns. I probably wouldn’t mind if they gifted me a sparkly cone shaped hat. It would just be nice to feel like my birthday hadn’t passed me by this year. There’s always next year, if I’m lucky maybe someone will book the village hall and Mr Tumble wannabe. I just hope there will be party bags……