Birthday Gifts, Wanted and Unwanted!

So, I had a birthday last week.  I’m now in my last year of my 40’s … next year is the big 5-0.  I hope there is a big old blow-out party (hint, hint!). 

Me being me, my birthDAY was actually a birthWEEK.  I went out for dinner the weekend before, the day of, and the weekend after – all in celebration of my birthday!  And I’ve no shame about telling the waitstaff it’s my birthday and getting my free dessert and having them sing to me.  I like the attention!!

I’m still not used to having birthdays without having my children around me; one child is in Africa, one child is in Kansas and the other child is in Waco … but I did get text messages and Facebook messages and phone calls.  It’s good; not as good as having them here and in person, but it’s good.  I love hearing from them.

My husband gave me the EXACT gift I asked for:

 

It’s the first American cookbook, written by an American woman and written for American housewives and based on American ingredients.  It was written in 1747 and is a wonderful read as a historical resource.  Surprisingly to me, when I tell people that’s what he got me, they get a glazed look in their eyes and they say, “Oh …” rather pityingly.  They don’t understand that’s the EXACT gift I asked for (and for Christmas, I’m asking for a similar book, written a few years later); but good thing for him, he also got me a beautiful pair of pearl and diamond earrings.

 

That seems to be more socially acceptable and when I tell people that, it redeems him in their eyes.  But just between us, I like the cookbook better.

I also, for my birthday, got a special gift of –itis.  Four separate and distinct –itis’, actually.  I woke up feeling like death; dragged myself to the doctor where I was diagnosed with bronchitis, sinusitis, conjunctivitis (pink eye?  A toddler illness? I’m 49 freakin’ years old!) and otitis media.  Yes, an ear infection.  Another toddler illness.  It’s somehow wrong to have two (!!) toddler illnesses and menopausal symptoms at the same time. 

Anyway, I took to my bed and whined and carried on and made my poor husband fuss over me and wait on me hand and foot for several days before I decided I wasn’t going to die and I arose from my death-bed and insisted the birthWEEK celebrations continue! 

And they did!  We went out to eat again (I was too weak to cook, but not too weak to eat out LOL) and we went to Cheesecake Factory because … well, because they have cheesecake!!  The waitress was amazing; she was so personable and friendly and nice – but when it came time to present me with my cheesecake (and the song – got to have the “everyone look at me, I crave attention” song!) she either misunderstood what I said, or I didn’t speak clearly, because I was serenaded with “Happy Birthday, dear Salmon …”  Salmon?  After the song ended, as husband and I were diving into the cheesecake, I asked him, “Did you hear that, too?” and he laughed and said, “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say anything … but yes, she called you Salmon.”

All in all, turning 49 hasn’t been too bad.  I got the *exact* gift I wanted (even if everyone else thinks it’s odd) and I got a beautiful (and socially acceptable) gift, I got phone calls from my children.  I got gifts and cards and well-wishes from friends and family and I got at least three birthday meals.  And a new nickname. 

I also got a collection of –itis’ that made me feel youthful (toddler illnesses.  At my age!  What’s next?  Acne?) and I was able to take to bed and read my new cookbook … and be VERY grateful that I don’t have to fix any recipes that start off with, “First, skin a young rabbit …”

And I have a pair of diamond and pearl earrings that redeem my husband in other people’s eyes; but I still have to say, “But I *WANTED* the cookbook!  I asked for it!”.

Turning 49 was fun. Well, maybe not the -itis'.  Those, I could have lived without.  But aside from that, turning 49 was fun.  I can’t wait for 50!