KirstenL4W

That’s how old I am now. Most people don’t believe me when I tell them that, which is really flattering but annoying all the same. I don’t feel like I should be 35. I feel 29 or 30 at the most. Thirty-five just sounds . . . so OLD. That’s not me. I’m not old. I don’t even feel old unless my 15 year old nephew, bless his 6′2″ beanpole little heart, asks me if they had computers when I was in school. He asked ME that, not my husband who was also included in the conversation, who is a few years older than I am. He asked his hip, cool aunty that. Punk.

So, birthdays. I just had one. I’ve had really crappy ones in the past. One involved misunderstandings and the loss of a friendship. Another one saw me listening to a message on my answering machine in which I was dumped by my boyfriend of 5 months. Fast forward oh, a few years or so, and now the friendship has been repaired and is thriving. The ex-bf, on the other hand, is not enjoying the karmic kick in the nuts he got by what he did to me. He contacts me from time to time on IM, and it’s clear that his personal life, while showing some promise back then, is not where he’d like it to be. But that’s his problem. My issue, the one of not caring much for my birthday because of crap that happened years ago, is over. All because of my wonderful husband.

I’m not the kind of person who will ask for much, which frustrates the shit out of him. (Hush up, Mommy.) The way I see it, I have pretty much everything I need and want, and therefore have a hard time coming up with gift lists when someone asks. Other times I have a hard time replacing a perfectly good object just because there’s a new and better one available. That’s the frugal part of me. So anyway, my husband gets annoyed that I just don’t want stuff. But in another conversation earlier in the week, I showed him a headboard from IKEA that I thought would work well in our bedroom, since the wall behind our bed is a huge, tall empty wall. He liked it and wondered when we would have time to go, since the nearest IKEA is a 4 hour drive. I suggested that since I had planned late days during the week, I’d be able to leave early on Friday and we can run down there. So we did. I got out of work early yesterday and we jumped in the truck to IKEA. We were also supposed to have dinner with a friend who lives in the area, but she had to take a raincheck because she felt a bit under the weather (nice pun, eh?). So it was just IKEA and back.

This was one of those things that makes me fall more and more in love with Mister. That he thinks so highly of me that he would drive 4 hours to a store and let me loose to shop to my heart’s content, and that he tells me it was worth it because it made me happy. I always think that it’s my job to make him happy, so to be with someone who wants me to be as happy as I make him is just so sappy sweet and my eyes are starting to tear up just writing this.

I don’t feel as old as my age says I should feel. But I certainly feel loved.

Other Posts Like Me:

• Still Here Visiting
• Happy….
• Seventeen
• A Bit Late, But…
• All About Birthdays

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