Today is my birthday, but I’m not doing anything to celebrate it. Instead, I’m working and then going to a birth class which begins and ends at precisely the right times to prevent me from going out to dinner anywhere. It’s OK though, as going out to dinner is the only thing I would have wanted to do anyway. As a result of my “condition”, I can’t drink and I get tired early. So mostly, I’m OK with this non-birthday. I’m 31 which isn’t all that significant, as far as birthdays go. Besides, I have made plans to go out to dinner on Friday and then see a Misfits cover band and an Operation Ivy cover band. But part of me is a little sad. It’s the first birthday in 16 years that I will spend completely sober. That makes me sound a bit like a drunk but it’s not really like that. It’s just that drinking is something my friends and I do. I’ve been doing OK with the not drinking. But at my husband’s birthday part on Sunday, abstaining was the hardest it’s ever been. Not in a shaky, alcoholic way. There is no way I’m going to cave and drink a bottle of Cook’s. I know what’s at stake and I’m not willing to do that under any circumstances. But it was hard from a mental standpoint. In a nutshell, being pregnant is the ultimate buzz kill.
For a while, I was having a great time with everyone and then, at some point in the evening, their amusing, jovial lubrication turned into total obliteration. There were a few people who weren’t completely hammered. But most people were. It was the nature of the day. It became difficult to talk to them. It became work. I felt like an asshole because I understood where they were coming from. I’ve been there. But I was also pretty annoyed and kind of wanted to just go to bed. I didn’t though. I rode it out because it was my husband’s birthday party and I wanted him to have a good time. I apologize to anyone if I came off as a raging bitch in the process.
Today is my birthday and I’m doing nothing fun or frivolous. Everything I do today is out of responsibility and duty. It will be a very adult day. I never did like the idea of becoming an adult. Of course, it’s mostly unavoidable. The alternatives are either death or Peter Pan-ism. I chose adulthood. I will instead remember last year’s birthday fondly. I was in a band. We played a battle of bands right here in my house. We won and I’m convinced that our votes were not pity votes. It was a great time. I will also remember that I can have great times again. Maybe not exactly like that. I don’t want my kid’s earliest memories of me being how smashed mommy was. But KIND of like that because my friends are awesome and will always be awesome and we will find other ways to party with babes in arms. But not this year…
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