Friday, 12 March 2010

Haaaaa BA dooo YOOO

That's what Rocco sang to me all day yesterday, for my birthday. Actually, he's sang it every day for almost a month and a half - it's his favourite song. And he's singing it again today. But, *technically* I was serenaded appropriately yesterday. I forgot to get video, but I'll just get it when he's singing it again tomorrow.

Dave got me an arse for my birthday. Best jeans ever. I understand what all the fuss is about - usually I buy my jeans for $40 in some cheap shop, sweaty and bribing the kids with chocolate to wait patiently for me.

(I am so proud of an Australian company who has made it big overseas.)

I tried them on .... just to see what a pair of $190 jeans would feel like. Like when Vincent Vega wants to try a "fi dolla shake."




I was genuinely shocked ... no more concave flat pancake bum! I don't know how they do it, I have looked for some secret panels but there are none to be found. I now walk with a swagger.

So, because of such a big purchase, Dave was pretty much off the hook for any festivities. He even played footie last night, guilt-free.

Birthdays are fun. March 11 is always a magic date for me, like a get out of jail free card. I feel special, less anxious, and free. Like I can do what I want, and nobody is allowed to get cranky at me.
Yesterday I woke up to Maxs homemade birthday card, (him and I playing Mario DS together) Rocco's serenade ..... and Tim sheepishly coming downstairs saying, oh, *cough* it's your birthday? And I wasn't even mad at him. He was really sick, I knew he felt bad. I marvelled at how much I've changed as a stepmother, years ago that would have really hurt and pissed me off. I ended up going shopping, coming home with two new T-shirts for Tim. I said, "Mate, I'm sorry but how cool am I? Not only do you forget my birthday and get me nothing but I see two shirts that would look so cool on you so I get them. I'm pretty awesome."

Maybe my new arse makes me a better mother.

I also bought two new bras for myself, Max a new football, Rocco some pyjamas, and Dave some undies. Then got a Chinese massage for an hour. HEAVEN.

When I got home, I was a little disappointed that there was no cake. I told Dave I hope he loses footy, because it was the final knockout and I'm sick of being a sports widow. He totally lost, came home saying I jinxed him. I fist-pumped the air, YEESSS! I told him not to worry, does he want some birthday cake?

"Cake? Is there birthday cake?"

I turned around and looked at the kitchen. "Ohhh, actually no. There's no birthday cake."

Dave looked pissed off and we stared at each other until Tim said, "EDEN! I will make you a cake. It will be the best cake you've ever seen!"

I said, well ....... it better be.

So he's making it tonight, reckons I'm not allowed to look. I told him there needs to be a theme.

My age? Emotionally I think I'm about 11. Maybe 12. Physically I'm 38. Spiritually I feel old, the oldest hag in town.

Old and blessed.

I scored some wonderful loot from my siblings this year. Among my favourites was this skull scarf Leigh got me:

She also bought me some cool thick patterned leggings, said she usually buys me something she likes, but put her Eden Head on to choose. I love this scarf. It makes me tough.
Linda got me some lip gloss and liner, and this card:


She said it reminded her of Dave and I, in thirty years. We're going to frame it.
My brother boought me a box of chocolates. Boring you say? Never. Especially not when they are my favourite kind .... and a very big box. Allow me to use my young helper as a measuring tool, to give you an idea of the size:

After that photo he jumped on the box. But they still taste yummy.

Dave didn't get let off the hook completely .... tomorrow I am dragging him to a museum in Sydney, with the boys. As it is my birthday treat, I laid out some specific conditions:

"Ok. You must enjoy yourself at all times. No dragging your feet, no complaining. We will leave the museum when I say so. And you are NOT to start banging on about finding a park as soon as we drive out the frickin driveway."

He has accepted my terms. He had too, or I wouldn't let him have any of my cake tonight.

CAKE!
Thank you for your kind wishes. It's hard today .... the 12th of March. 365 more days to go!
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