First world problem: the thought of my birthday makes me tense up as I brace for whatever nonsense people around me feel like dishing out on my 'special day'. As I thought about writing a post about this, I mentally winced at how unimportant and whiny that idea is in the grand scheme of real life problems people face. The serious things I've faced in my life. Illness, death, isolation, why neon pink leopard print anything exists, fear, loss, epic mistakes. The very business of living. 

Stay with me. 

I've got Mommy issues. It's old news, I know. But over the last decade, my mother has really hit her stride making anything I do about her, the more personal or celebratory the situation, the bigger the scenario she needs to create. My husband, bless his heart, struggles with my birthday as well. When your most memorable childhood birthday gift is a backpack your dad picked up from work because your parents forgot you'd shot out of your mother x-number of years ago, you're entitled to have some unresolved emotions where gift-giving is concerned. I also suspect he doesn't like milk because his breast milk was nicotine flavored. Perhaps that's a topic for another time... 

Anyway, my sweetie and I have worked out a practical, if less than magical solution, as you do in a co-dependent viable marriage. Short, specific birthday lists. Relaxed, no-pressure plans. It's not rocket science, but I think we've all been around those couples where one drags the other around to restaurants or activities the other absolutely hates on special occasions and they spend the whole night bickering. Certainly expand each other's horizons, but time and place matter. Pick your battles, folks. 

We're almost there. Promise.

Factor in extraneous family members/issues (Surely you didn't think all's well within the family outside of my mom's illness. Ha! A thousand times, ha!) so on and so forth, and special days can boil down to a syrupy, hot mess. It's demoralizing to be honest. And while I felt that way for so long, clearly from my guilt tinged opening, I didn't believe I had a right to feel that way. But what a difference it's made in my life, even on one specific day in a year, to just.let.go. 

This is not the basis for some self-help, life transforming, six easy steps to unlocking your inner tap dancing unicorn kind of thing. I am on a quest to be happy, to let go of the things I can't change that drag me down. There's still a place for edgy, dark, snark and odd. I'm not looking to go full butterflies and daisies 24/7. But somewhere, being miserable and exhausted became the ultimate merit badges. 

So the past 9 months or so, I've been working on changing my own internal chatter. I didn't notice much difference until the last few weeks. I'm not feeding the world's poor, I get it. But I do think there's something to being the change you want to see in the world. Today, I was happy. I am happy. I went with the flow when warranted and took time for myself when I otherwise wouldn't have. I got the best of both worlds. And on my birthday no less. The usual people made their standard offering of trying to piddle on the parade. I dipped for a second, I rallied, I laughed at the energy wasted just to be a dick, and I moved on.  And you know what? To the people who matter in my life, my happiness today was down right infectious. 

My dad left behind his best Walter Matthau impression and gleefully recounted old stories throughout the day. My dad doesn't want to be a modern day Grumpier Old Man, it's crept up on him, like life has a tendency to do. But this dad today? He was joyful, ebullient even. He thanked me for how good my birthday was. Not because it was some perfectly planned anything, but just because of the way it went. My husband was cheerful and happy and loving and silly and all the best parts of himself today. He called me "Birthday Girl" at every opportunity. After dinner we snuck out and took an hour to ourselves to sit in companionable silence and sip a cool beverage together. My father-in-law even enjoyed the atmosphere, the stories, the silly banter around the table at dinner. Best of all, one of my nephews is here tonight. He got to share in and soak up the enjoyment of the day. Kids need that, adults too, but of all the things I want for the kiddos in my life, a sense of belonging, self-worth and happiness is what I want for them more than anything I can think of. My mom, before her less than delicate spiral to the edge of the abyss tonight, even had a good day. 

So here's to perhaps my best birthday ever. Perfectly imperfect in every way that counted.