I was not a cute baby. My parents used to dress me up in just swim trunks when we went to the beach because I looked enough like a boy that they could save money on a cute bathing suit. Thankfully, I grew out of that...I think. It was all quite traumatizing.
I'm turning twenty-two tomorrow. I can hardly believe it. Here's the thing. I sometimes believe that I am at least twenty-five. I have always felt more mature than my actual age.
I am only twenty-two, and yet I am at a stage in my life where some much older haven't reached. Every now and then, I have a hard time comprehending the fact that I am very happily married. At twenty-two! I have to say the number numerous times in order to get it in my thick skull that I am not as old as I feel.
The Hubby has been asking me what I want for my birthday for the past few weeks and I honestly can't decide. It is so rare for us to be able to celebrate a birthday together that my mind is racing.
I wanted a new camera for better blog pictures, a sewing machine as a new craft, knick knacks for our home, scrapbooking materials for a Bella scrapbook, new clothes, a vacuum cleaner, a steam mop, or a lawn mower. And knowing my sweet husband, he would be willing to get all of these things for me.
But, for my twenty-second birthday, I want the following:
- To get a kiss goodbye before Bella when The Hubby leaves for work in the morning
- For Bella to go potty without persuasion
- To walk around in my underwear for as long as possible
- To eat ice cream for breakfast
- To bake without guilt
- For The Hubby to come home for lunch
- Maybe some birthday cards in the mail instead of bills
- Phone calls or texts from my friends and family because I miss them
- Something fatty for dinner (maybe ice cream again)
- To watch at least two episodes of "Lost" before bed
And here I am on my twenty-first birthday, holding flowers from my then future hubby. I am so excited to turn twenty-two with you by my side this year, Big Boy.