I’m not done celebrating my birthday, thus I’ve not talked about it.  However, the rumors are true, I did in fact turn 35 on Tuesday.  I’m not 100% dealing with it well.  (But for the record, I turned 35 with a sink full of dishes and lightning didn’t strike, thus I think I’m not done being young.)  And I feel I must point out that when you are told someone is having a wee bit of trouble turning 35, mentioning that it is half of 70 might not be your go-to plan.  Just saying.

But I am not done celebrating my birthday yet.  I still have dinner with my boys and then there is the trip away. Ah, the birthday celebration continues.

So, since I’m not ready to wrap up my birthday — but I will say that I’ve not had a homemade birthday cake in YEARS and Tuesday my knitting friends pulled out a chocolate cake to die for!! — I have burning questions.

1. Is 5 too young to make a kid do all his own laundry?  He’s suddenly decided that he must wear MANY outfits a day (even multiple pairs of PJs a night) and I’m tired of trying to keep up on his clothing needs.
2. Does anyone need proof that the original Star Trek was super boring?  My child falls asleep during it nearly everytime.  He doesn’t fall asleep during Next Generation, just saying.
3. Why do I always seem to be walking uphill?
4. Is it actually possible to go to bed without a sink full of dishes in this house?

Oh sure, I told myself that since I’m going away soon, I’m postponing my celebration.  (Oh, how I hope that is the case.) But as my brithday is fast approaching, I’m realizing how few times I’ve mentioned it.

(At exactly this point, Prince is kicking himself for even bothering to buy me a gift.  He’s thinking to himself, “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t with this woman, someone shoot her and put her out of my misery.”  He also might be thinking I’m using too many parenthesis.)

I woke up Wednesday morning and realized that I’m going to be 35 in less than a week and I’m not ready.  No seriously, I’m not ready to be 35 yet.  There is so much more I have to do before I turn 35.  Since naturally, being in one’s mid-30’s means I should have finally pulled it all together and stop living like at 20 year old, right?  Of course, right.

The problem is I still do live like a 20 year old*.  For example, I make convenience foods. (There are days it is sheer force of will that I don’t live on Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts — ok, as I’ve aged, they give me heartburn, but that’s only a secondary reason for my not buying them.) (Oh, my word, I just talked about heartburn, I’m getting OLD people.)  I thought by the time someone was 35, they be eating real dinners nightly — like maybe I’d figure out how to shop for more than 1.34 meals at a time and make a dinner (consisting of meat, veggie, starch, and maybe a dessert) nightly.  (I’d also have more than one serving bowl — no need to gift me bowls people — remember I don’t cook nightly.)  Somehow, I also thought I’d be serving food family style by the time I was 35 too (thus the random bowl thoughts); but no, I dish everyone’s plate up from the stove — because why dirty another bowl just to serve pasta with butter and cheese?

By the time someone is 35, they ought to dress like a grown up.  Do grown ups wear jeans and tees every single day?  I look around at the mommies who drop their darling children off at school with me.  I see women who are pulled together with hair done and make-up at 8am; I see 20 somethings in their PJs pants (ala my college days); and I see the late 20’s-early 30’s in their tees and jeans.  I’m thinking I missed the memo that I’m supposed to be buying grown up clothing.  I mean a wardrobe that isn’t remarkably dressed up with a fleece jacket.  Apparently, I have clothing shopping to do.

A 35 year old would have a liquor cabinet.  Ok, so this one may seem odd.  But think about it, I think an adult should be able to mix some basic drinks for those fabulous people who come over from time to time.  Basically, one would like to be able to say, “Can I offer you some thing to drink?” and one of the items listed not be a juice box.  (Is this a growing up thing or a mommy thing?)

So in addition to a new 35 year old wardrobe, a menu plan (shopping/making/serving/cleaning…); I also will be scrubbing my house because a 35 year old probably ought to be able to have a clean house — or at least laundry done and beds made.

See I have too much to do before I turn 35.  Thus for the first time in my entire life, I’ve decided that I can not deal with turning 35 — since postponing my birthday will be far easier than becoming an actual grown up — in under a week.  Thus, (I’m also incapable of actually ignoring my birthday) I’m planning on not becoming 35 — I shall be 34 and 3/2.  It will be stated as “Thirty-four and three halves.”  Just like my five year old who wants to be six and thus counts his 5th year in months, “I’m 5 and a month.  I’ll be six soon.  Then I’ll be seven.”  (Perhaps teaching him to count wasn’t my smartest move.)

Oh and just so I can feel even better about my new age.  Duke declared that he has to be 43 to get a driver’s license, but that you can get a license at 33.  So Prince asked Duke (while I was driving mind you), “so how old do you think Mommy is?”  Thirty-three.  With new math, I’m technically, thirty-three and four halves.  I can work with this.

*in some ways — in other’s I’m about 92, give or take a decade.

But today, in most parts of the world, we celebrate the anniversary of my birth.  I know that many take this day off of work in order to celebrate fully; but I’m ok if you wish to just send gifts and well wishes for many more years to come.

<SLAP>  Ok, let’s get back to reality — because certainly this is not it.

Remember, I have had this ‘thing’ about my birthday.  Seriously, I’m obsessed and I tend to talk about it to everyone who stands still and makes the mistake of speaking to me between the months of July and October.  However, all I’ve ever wanted was a perfect birthday.  Something that I can neither define nor plan myself.  So, yes, you can guess that I’m not very good at my whole birthday thing, despite my constant talking about it.

But this year, I’ve not talked about it as much.  I had no inner excitement like in years past.  I think that my son’s obsession with his birthday might have sucked it from me — but that’s a guess.  Anyway, with all that is going on in our lives lately: a cruise to Alaska; a boy’s birthday party; Prince in an undisclosed location for a week; our upcoming trip to Paris; and a more work lately than I thought I had hours for; I’m pooped.  Almost too pooped to care about my birthday.  ALMOST.

First, my best friend, Niki, (seriously, she’s my closest friend because she taught me to knit and thus is the only person who might understand my current obsession — oh, and she’s really rather neat) understands my needs and she sent me a box of goodies a week ago.  Prince had my/his camera and I’ve been a horrible friend to not take photos (never fear, I’m no better now, but I promise there will be photos up in Flickr soon (like before Paris soon).  However, wrapped in color coordinated tissue paper, Niki sent me  two balls of sock yarn (one is called coffee and cream — um, she’s knows me); a pair of socks that she knitted (which might fit me better than any other sock I’ve gotten or made); a set of amazing stitch markers that she MADE*; a green shirt that goes with the theme; a cute little bag that I can’t wait to come up with a use for; and her husband found duck magnets and duck clips.  Ok, I’m loved.  I am such a great friend, I called her instantly thanked her and promised photos.  Then I promptly got sick, Prince left for a week, and I’m just now beginning to feel like taking the promised photos and blogging about it.  Um — everyone needs a friend like Niki, for what it is worth.

Next, Prince came home yesterday.  We sat around like slugs on Saturday because after our weeks both of us were POOPED.  I even let Duke skip his nap in exchange for ‘quiet’ time in his room, so I could sit in a quiet room for an hour and I loved it.  Prince and I had been talking for a bit about the iPod touch (for him) and the iPhone (for me).  I kept teasing him that I wanted an iPhone for my birthday.  He brought me back from his trip for my birthday a bottle of beer bread mix (just add beer) and an iTunes gift card.  So, after a little chatting and twisting of his rubberish arm, we headed off to the Apple store and bought both items (I want gifts on HIS birthday this year).  We come home and put Flushed Away on the TV for Duke (if you haven’t seen it — it is REALLY rather cute).  Prince boots up his Mac and instantly has his iPod all set-up and working.  Me?  I tried to activate my iPhone, BUT it seems that AT&T has decided in celebration of my birthday to take down all the systems to activate iPhones this WHOLE weekend.  Yes, that sucks.  I have an iPhone staring at me, teasing me, refusing to do anything because of the system update.  (estimated time to activation was 38 hours!!!)  I spoke to 7 people between Apple and AT&T.  At the end of 7 people, I got exactly 1 apology and a $50 credit on my AT&T account.  Happy Birthday to me.

Finally, this morning, I was stumbling in the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast and such.  I asked Duke, “Do you know what today is?” “Wednesday?” “No, Buddy, it is Sunday and it is my birthday.” “You’re 4?” “No, I’m 34; but it is my birthday.” “Will you get to blow out candle?” “Maybe, think I should?” “Yes, and I sing to you.”

And he sang Happy Birthday to Me.  Oh, yes — it is going to be a great birthday.

*The markers Niki made for me as awesome as they are reversible — for both large and small needles.  These are awesome.  Now as a die-hard lover of my small plastic rings, I’m working hard to get used to the dangle stitch markers.  What’s also cool is that my current knitting obsession is a cardigan and I need exactly the six markers she sent me.  Now, that’s pretty awesome.

MY BIRTHDAY!!!

Yes, my dear internets, time has come for my birthday discussions. I want to say that I’m maturing, since I’ve made it to the 5th of September before I’ve started mentioning it. But what I’m going to do for my birthday remains a mystery. Yes, I have no idea. I normally plan and plan, but the reality is I have no idea what I WANT this year.

Prince asked me this weekend what gift I wanted and I have nothing on my short list. Oh, sure I want an iPhone, or the new iPod that he’s about to buy (for himself). I already have Prince’s Christmas gift (tucked away out of your sight, Prince — “Back Off.”) but I can not think about what I want in 11 days.

Here’s the thing:

1. No, I don’t need Prince or Duke to pick out yarn. First, Duke is in his orange phase. Second, Prince thinks I have enough yarn and probably won’t enjoy giving it to me.
2. I think I want a gadget. But what? Who knows.

What I do know is that I’ve confirmed the sitter so we could do something once Prince figures it all out. Maybe I won’t be disappointed this year — but who knows. I’m giving him all the pressure this year. So, there’s your challenge, Prince — make it happen….um, yup, there’s some pressure too. (And while you are thinking about it, just remember that I’m already done with your Christmas — or birthday, whichever. )

You see instead of cooking our pork and lentels (something I saw on the Today show about bringing good luck), we decided (read: sort of started a project and one thing lead to another) to re-arrange the entire living room, half the kitchen, and the laundry room — in three hours. Oh, and clean the whole garage. Seriously, we are NOT normal.

It all began with an idea (doesn’t it always). The idea was to get Duke out of the house and running around a bit. (Does this even remotely sound like “Hey, let’s clean everything we own, move stuff around a lot and fill all the garbage cans,” to you? No? Hmmm.) So, we opened the garage and let Duke ride around on his trike. Ok, cool. However, Prince and I then had basically nothing to do but watch Duke, so we both set about random things that we’d been meaning to do outside. Prince moved some stuff from one side of the garage to the other; I removed the cobwebs out of the corners of my front porch and swept up a ton of leaves. Duke “helped” with the leaves a bit. Then, slowly I noticed Prince venturing into the pile of stuff we’ve been trying to pretend isn’t there — the pile of stuff that makes a two-car garage a one-car garage. We knew what was in the pile, but really had little idea what to do with it. I tried not to get sucked into the dealing with *THAT* pile and instead focused on sweeping up leaves from the side of the house. Then, it began — we consolidated a box, then two boxes — then the spark of an idea hit. “You know, if we could get these two, REALLY comfy recliners out of the garage and upstairs in the living room, we’d have a lot more room in here.” “But where will you put them.” “I have an idea, you game?”

And thus it began. This is the first time in recorded history that Prince has had fore-knowledge of a major furniture move in our house (I typically prefer to do it when he’s not home because a) I don’t like other opinions; b) I prefer to move stuff around with my own brute strength and thus don’t like to hear him gasp as I move things ‘differently’; and c) I never have a plan in mind, thus there is always a need to stop and re-adjust and fix and alter and throw my hands up in the air and walk away cussing — Prince doesn’t need to see any more of this side of me than he already does.

So, given that Prince was now privy to my plan; I had to ammend my plan a bit. “Yes, Prince, you help me move the recliners upstairs and I’ll get the rest taken care of, k?” Well, fortunately he was still dealing with Mt. Box-more in the garage and I was pushing the sofa this way and that.

[Wait, you want to know who Duke helped? Well, you see somehow, we were able to take care of all of this during his nap today. Don't ask me to explain how it can take me ALL day to move a room full of furniture around, but today I moved it all; cleaned it all; added 2 recliners to room -- not only silently enough not to wake Duke, but in the time span of a single nap.]

I won’t go into the details of the two of us moving two chairs up a flight of stairs or how we are still dealing with a few odds and ends or how when Prince came back upstairs after I declared my wonderfulness at being about to use all the pieces of furniture, unexpectedly, he says, “Hmm, not sure I like it — but it’s ok.” But I will say this, we are NOT allowed to make any garbage this week. Despite our best efforts to allow space at the top of the cans for the normal weekly garbage, I can tell you that as of this moment my trash, recycling bin, AND my yard waste containers are FULL. And you see Snarkville’s Waste Management system does NOT allow for more than your single can’s worth to be picked up. Bummer, since we now have the “waiting to go out” pile in the garage where Mt. Box-more and the recliners once lived.

Alas, I sit here typing away in my own personal chair (attempting to make no garbage), with my knitting stuff to my right and the remote to my left. I am in a chair of great power in this house. I have somehow figured out how to create more room with more furniture. I have also successfully removed at least one or two whole cats worth of fur from under the various pieces of furniture in this room and did not discover any hidden puke.
And it is Day One of 2007 and I get to cross another thing off my 30 things list! I shall celebrate and party like it is 2006!