Break out the spanx

It's that time of year again, you know that time that as you get older you really don't look forward to. Yep it's birthday time. I went all year without thinking about it and that sneaky bastard snuck up on me when I wasn't looking. This Wednesday I will be 31, ugh, I'm not really sure why but this birthday is hitting me harder than the others. I guess possibly because I'm not where I would like to be in life or maybe I'm just more sensitive about it because getting older sucks. My past several birthdays have just been an absolute ball. Last year I did absolutely nothing special, I worked and then stayed at home in sweats looking a hot mess. The year before that I was a month and a half past having Lala, still carrying all of that glorious water weight and lactating like a bitch. Guess who had to go home early from the first night out in longer than she could remember because let-down is a hooker and she leaked through the pads and into her shirt? Yep, that one was a real party. Honestly the only reason I ever remember my birthday is because someone in my family brings it up.


Mom asks me the other day what I wanted for my birthday. Loaded question much?! See when you're a kid it's easy to answer that question. Had you asked me when I was say 10, I would have gotten that starry-eyed yay free stuff look on my face and named every new toy or gadget that had caught my interest. Now my first thought is "All my debts paid" or "To not be 31 and still trying to scratch a living while single-handedly raising a little", these are my birthday wishes now. Not ooh can I have that Barbie, or a new game for the Nintendo, it's more like can I get through school so I can get a decent good job and live at least comfortably, in my own home preferably. But life is life and we have what we have, have to make the best of it. I think for this birthday I will ask for a night out, oh yes and a truck of liquor, maybe relive some of my past glory days. Then I think about the next morning and having to get up with Lala at the butt-crack of dawn hungover, and I rethink it. Besides, I am not one to stress over things like what to wear, but I have come to realize that a lot of my clothes, the nice sexy ones anyway, are from my pre-baby body, early twenties days. These are I am guessing not necessarily appropriate for women my age. Even though some of them still look pretty kick ass on me. So the question then becomes, if one my age is to go out to say a bar, what is acceptable apparel? Can I show skin? Because let's face it, I love my tattoos and I didn't get them to hide them. Or is there a no skin rule after a certain age? These are of course things I haven't thought about or worried about since getting older as my "outings" have dwindled to maybe twice a year. And that brings up my next point, I never get to get dressed up and look hot, so does that mean I can break some of the 30-something rules?

I hate birthdays, I swear I am cancelling them from here on out. No more birthdays, I will stay where I am for the rest of forever so I don't have to keep having these conversations with myself.

Friends: Do you have any recent birthday stories/memories? I would love to hear them, and your thoughts on the 31 year old dress code wouldn't hurt either. :-)