29

It's no mystery that I wasn't really looking forward to turning 29. If you know me, have spent time with me, gave birth to me, what you have you, you probably heard me exhale loudly anytime anyone mentioned that my birthday was coming. It was the first time that I really wasn't looking forward to it. Not that the alternative, being death, is a good option, but I just didn't want to have my last birthday with a two at the beginning of it. I'm hoping I got all the complaining out of my system this year and that next year the big three oh will just happen without any pomp, circumstance, or loud sighing on my part.

So last Wednesday rolled around and it wasn't the terrible thing that I thought it might be. I took The Rock Star to his first day of his second year of preschool and then went out for coffee with some other preschool moms. Later that night my family took me out for dinner. And that's when it happened.

G: (to the waitress) Hey. Do you know my name?
Her: No. What's your name?
G: Garrett.
Her: What a nice name.
G: It's mommy's birthday!
Her: Oh. Well, happy birthday.
Me: Thank you.

Of course, about five minutes later, the entire restaurant staff serenaded me with a birthday song and then bestowed a dessert upon me. Well, not upon me--that's probably wouldn't have been any fun since it was covered in chocolate sauce. More like in front of me. For all the attention I don't mind having on myself, for all the stage appearances, for all the times that I'm like, "laugh at my funny joke!" you really should know that there's an introvert lying dormant inside. And she gets really embarrassed when people in restaurants sing to her.

But it was worth it because a certain four-year-old was grinning from ear to ear and was immeasurably proud of himself when, after they finished, I ruffled his hair, hugged him, and told him that he was the culprit behind their singing. After they'd filed away and both my sons were eyeing my dessert like it was their birthday, The Rock Star asked, "Mommy? How many are you?"

Me: Old.
G: But, how many?
Me: 29.
G: (pause) So you're gonna die soon, huh?