Bittersweet Birthday

Happy Birthday to Me…Cha Cha Cha…Happy Birthday to Me…Cha Cha Cha…Happy Birthday Dear Me-ee…Cha Cha Cha…Happy Birthday to Me…

Yup, it’s my birthday today.  Above is my niece’s version of The Happy Birthday Song – the “Cha-Cha-Cha”s add a little something, don’t they?  Well, the second half of her rendition is decidedly less festive…

Are ya 1? No, certainly not.  Are ya 2? No.  Are ya 3?  No.  Are ya 4?  That would be a negative.  Are ya 5? Nope.  Are ya 6?  Uh, uh.  Are ya 7? Nope.  Are ya 8? No.  Are ya 9?  No, again.  …I will refrain from boring you with what has obviously become a trend here…  Are ya 29?  No.  Are ya 30?  Uh, uh.  Are ya 31?


Over the past five years or so, my birthday and I have had a sort of love/hate relationship.  I’m a fan of my birthday because presents are awesome…

I squealed like a tween when I opened these.

…as is time spent with family…

We are one dork-tastic family, aren’t we? That’s me in the stroller.

…and friends.

Dirty 30 with my besties. 🙂

The thing about birthdays, though, is that with every one of them you get, well, older.  This is all fine and dandy until you reach age 25 or so.  After that milestone birthday, all the fun is over – you can vote, you can drink, you can rent a car…what else is there?

I guess you can tell that I was one of those who suffered a Quarter Life Crisis.  Yup, when I hit 25 I started to think “Who am I?  What am I doing?  Where am I in my life?  What’s this all about?!?!”  While I’ve dealt with some answers to those questions and feel more secure in who I am, I still have an issue with the whole aging process.  Now, though, my problems with getting older have more to do with this ol’ body of mine getting older.  FYI to all you young ‘uns out there: when you hit 30 your metabolism goes to pot, you start noticing icky things called wrinkles, and it takes you about 5 days to recover from one night of imbibing.  Yeah, it sorta sucks.

However, I have found that I’ve so far approached this birthday with a bit more of a positive attitude – hard to tell considering the above pity party, huh?  I’ve been making a conscious effort to focus on what my body can do rather than how it looks.  I can do multiple reps with those 8 lb. weights pictured above and I can run more and better miles than I could when I was 21.  Actually, ya know what?  At 31, I’m probably in the best shape I ever have been and I don’t look half bad either.  Sure I might have a few laugh lines around those 31-year-old eyes of mine but I wouldn’t trade any one of the laughs that got them there :).  The more I think about it, the more my response to The Happy Birthday Song changes:

Are ya 31?

You bet your socks I am!  And proud of it!

So, I’m gonna go enjoy one of these delightful cookies (which are not at all healthy, by the way, but it’s okay cause it’s my birthday) and give my OLD self a giant HAPPY BIRTHDAY hug :).

Bittersweet Birthday Cookies

I prefer cake, but these are like cake in cookie form.

1 1/8 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup butter

3/8 cup brown sugar

1/8 cup sugar

1 (1 oz.) box Jell-O Sugar Free Vanilla Instant Pudding Mix

1 egg

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups white chocolate chips

healthy shakity-shake of rainbow sprinkles

Whisk together flour and baking soda and set aside.  Cream together butter and sugars until light and fluffy.  Beat in pudding mix and then egg and vanilla.  Stir in flour mixture and then chips and sprinkles.  Scoop into balls and bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes.


Do you like birthdays – yours specifically?

Are you a cake or a cookie person?

Categories: Aging, Birthdays, Cookies, Sweet Tooth | 6 Comments

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6 thoughts on “Bittersweet Birthday

  1. Jennifer

    Happy Birthday! I think you are rockin’ 31! Those cookies look yummy, but I am more of a cake person!

  2. roxanne

    like fine wine- you get better with age!!

  3. Seriously, how did I miss this post before?! Especially with those lovely cookies!
    Theoretically I like my birthday, but more in the way that I wish it would stay early June forever and I could just plan my fabulous birthday party forever and ever and not actually ever let it arrive. Somehow all those “what am I doing with my life?” questions are worse the day after a birthday.

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