Happy Birthday to Me

A few weeks ago I had a birthday.  It's a little (but not too) unsettling to realize that I'm definitely closer to 40 than I am to 30.  Back when I was 35, I could legitimately say that I was only halfway in between those two milestones, and 36 was close enough to 35 that it hardly counted if I was a year older.  But 37 is the age when all pretense at youth is gone.  I'm two years past the 'advanced maternal age' category of pregnant mothers.  I'm more than twice the age of high-school graduates.  Even stranger to realize, I'm more than three times removed (19 years) from that age than Kathleen is (6 years).  As I'm fond of telling Brandon when he moans about his advancing years, old age happens to everyone who doesn't die first.

That's not to say that I consider myself old anymore, I just don't consider myself young either.  Which I'm perfectly fine with; I would never ever go back to the mistakes and inexperience of my youth, with all of the uncertainty and wondering what my place was in the world.  I'd much rather have the beginning of wrinkles, freckles making serious takeover attempts on my arms, and minor health problems, thank you very much.  It's nice to see how the story has turned out so far.

To celebrate, Brandon took me to a local hotel for the night, where we enjoyed a pretty good Italian dinner (especially for Central Asia), sleeping in, and hot chocolate and cronuts for breakfast.  It's wonderful to be financially comfortable so that the occasional splurge isn't something that has to be carefully planned and painfully paid for.  See the above observations on getting older.

For my present, Brandon took me jewelry shopping at Chorsu bazaar, which has a surprising number of jewelry stores with surprisingly expensive jewelry.  I choose to splurge on things other than jewelry (carpets, hotel stays) so the thought of spending $130 on a pair of gold earrings that I would wear a few times a month didn't appeal.  Much to my (and Brandon's relief), we were able to find some pretty silver earrings with a matching necklace for less than $50.  I'm not sure how the locals afford that kind of jewelry when the average salary in Uzbekistan is around $150 a month.

It was a good thing that Brandon and I celebrated before my birthday, because I was sick on my actual birthday.  I spent the day in bed (Brandon brought me breakfast) and only came down for my birthday dinner of french onion soup (also made by Brandon).  But the children had pooled their money and bought me a pretty glass swan candy dish and were very happy to give it to me after my birthday dinner.

I remember deciding in high school that children were probably a good idea because nobody cares about your birthday when you're 85, and I've definitely seen the wisdom of that insight over the years.  It's much more fun to have a birthday when there are people who love to celebrate it with you.

Here's to another year older!