It's my birthday. Yup, sure is. Birthdays really aren't a big deal for me, well mine isn't at least. I don't want a big celebration, or a bunch of people singing to me. It's fine if it's just another day. As long as it's one that involves a tasty cake (or two), that is.
Last year I wrote what I thought was an innocuous post, 33Things. A list of 33 things for which I was thankful. Apparently, though, it hurt MIL's feelings. She felt slighted that I hadn't included her on the list. Now, there were a lot of people who I didn't include on the list, so I'm not sure why it was such an issue for her. But it was. Enough that she specifically called hubby to tell him it hurt her feelings.
At the time, I blew it off. Rolled my eyes. I mean, really? But, for some reason, in the last couple of weeks, when I've thought about my birthday, I've remembered that more and more. And it's been bothering me. I think it's because as difficult as things were between us at time, I was/am thankful for her. And I'm sorry she didn't know that.
So, this birthday, I'm putting it out there that I'm still thankful for all that stuff from last year, plus MIL. And that makes it a list of 34 things.
Happy 34th Birthday to me.
Today's lesson: Cake is yummy.
Hole Punch Letters
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