Yesterday was my Birthday and I’ve taken to celebrating the fact that I am still in my thirties, rather than worrying about being another year older. But I admit, I am now clinging on to this decade for dear life.
I find myself getting nervous in the run up to my Birthday these days. Not just because of the age thing, but because something usually happens on or around the day which marrs the occasion. I’ve started to refer to it as the Birthday curse.
During the last ten years, since having children, one of us has tended to fall ill at this time of year. I put it down to the fact that I have young children, as they tend to pick up bugs really easily. Once the kids get something, it goes round the rest of the family like wild fire.
It is usually either a sick bug or the flu. I remember at my 30th party, when my husband had to go home early because he was so ill (sickness). And when I was pregnant with my third child, I was in bed with the flu. I was convinced I had the bird flu because I was so ill (and also there was mass hysteria about it at the time!).
I ended up having a persistent cough and being told by the midwife that my son had engaged early because I had ‘coughed’ him into position. It was down to my Birthday curse that he arrived early and was born on Christmas Day.
As the years have passed I don’t remember particularly who was ill and with what, but only that it happens every time. There have also been other occasions that have made for a memorable Birthday for me. A few years ago we were snowed in and so it had to be postponed. On that day, the postman never even made it with my cards.
So what happened this year, I hear you ask? Well true to form it was another eventful occasion. Four days before the big day, my husband put his back out and has been incapacitated ever since. We had planned a day at London Zoo, which he was unable to join us on. I ended up going with the children and my father-in-law, but even that was a close call, as the night before my youngest son was sick three times. Yes, the dreaded sick bug strikes again.
Luckily, the next day he felt well enough to come with us and we all managed to enjoy a day at the zoo. We missed my husband, though.
So what can I expect next year? Flu, sick bugs, snow, protruding discs, I think I’ve seen it all now, surely. Is this a thirties thing? Should I look forward to turning forty in the hope that I will have a normal Birthday? I guess that would be the only reason for looking forward to it.
I’ll wait with bated breath for the next time then.