Last week, I celebrated my 30-something-th birthday.
Usually I (try to) think of birthdays less as getting older and more like, you know, being grateful to still be around.
I managed to forget about this whole annoying ageing process by fighting it as hard as I could (Wrinkles? Which wrinkles?…What does greying hair even mean?).
A recent event however tipped off the balance of that wishful state.
My birthday present.
Usually Hubby and I start talking about my birthday presents weeks before (when I was younger it was months but I am very busy these days) and play a teasing/guessing game.
Which usually ends up with me getting my birthday present at least a week before it was due.
This year, as I was spending my birthday, on my very own, on the other side of the world on a business trip ( god I love those details that add nothing to the story), I realised I didn’t even think about my present this time.
If you are feeling sorry for me being on my own, please don’t.
I treated myself to the biggest Ice Cream Sunday EVER with super extra Chocolate sauce. Yum. Or I guess you could feel sorry for me but for a completely different reason (sigh).
Like I said, I was happy enough with my caloric bomb treat and my Little Man singing me “Happy Birthday” on FaceTime that I completely missed the lack of engagement on the present front from Hubby.
So when I made it back, I was surprised when Hubby said ” I do have a present for you, you know” (I guess he confused my jet-laggedness with some why-didn’t-I-get-my-present-yet sulking).
“Oh yes? I don’t really fancy a present”, I lied.
“You are getting one nevertheless”, replied my very wise wise man before adding ” I got you something you really REALLY wanted. Want to guess?”
“I hate guessing and there is nothing that I can think of anyway”, I helpfully replied.
“What is the thing you would like the most?”, persisted my very patient Hubby.
“One year of massages”, I blurted out there, acknowledging the dangerous territory I was heading into which could only end up with one of us being disappointed.
“One year of massages indeed”, he said.
At which point I decided to stop sulking. Oh I guess I WAS doing some of that after all.
You would have read on this blog how completely addicted to massages I was and always thought (and I guess said) that if money and time were no barriers, I would have a massage every week.
Hubby gave me the gift of both. Ama-zing.
As I was basking in this wonderfulness, I started over-analysising the implications of that unusual present.
See, I used to like AND get material things: shoes, clothes, hum, shoes and clothes…. basically things serving at the altar of looking good I guess.
Now I wanted to take care of myself and I became more interested in feeling good.
Surely feeling vs. looking good is only a sign of how old I am actually getting, don’t you think?
Or maybe not.
Maybe a girl can have her cake and eat it. And as far as I am concerned, I ALWAYS eat the cake.
Maybe Hubby is sponsoring me to feel better so that I will ultimately look better:
1. By feeling good, my inner relaxed and soothed self will shine through. Ahhhhhh
2. More importantly I have spare cash to spend on material things now that Hubby is funding my biggest money draining addiction. Yesssssss.
What think?
What kind of presents do you favour: look or feel good ? Physical things or experiences ?
Bisous bisous.
Photo credit: courtesy of the uber-yummy site www.bakerella.com
Pour ce qui me concerne, je me suis quasiment persuadée de ne pas aimer les cadeaux.
, j’ai eu l’habitude depuis l’enfance, de ne pas fêter mon anniversaire le jour J (les gens étant la plupart du temps occupés à chercher l’Alka Seltzer…), voire ne pas le fêter du tout (vacances, oubli…).
Je m’explique.
Née un 1er janvier, mariée à un autre 1er janvier – amnésique de surcroît (lui pas moi
La St Valentin étant pour moi associée à des souvenirs douloureux, je ne la fête pas non plus.
Quant à ma fête, le 15 aout, ben voila, en plein mois d’aout, il n’y a personne!
Pour couronner le tout, je me suis entourée d’amis et d’amies, anarchistes, féministes, tous prônant la ringardise des cadeaux et la niaiserie des fêtes-symboles de notre société marchande et malade!
Mais je dois avouer que j’aime les cadeaux, peu importe ce que c’est pourvu qu’ils durent (donc surtout pas de trucs qui se mangent ou se boivent et surtout pas de fleurs) et pourvu que ça raconte quelque chose de personnel entre la personne qui l’offre et moi.
Voila, ce dernier aveu fait de moi une fille très difficile à contenter si d’aventure un brave s’était risqué à m’offrir quelque chose!
Bisous!
Marieke- n’est ce pas la tout le dilemme des cadeaux, oserais je dire surtout pour nous autres filles (ah je sens les foudres de tes ami(e)s féministes se battre sur moi
)
1. On en veut un mais on ne le demande pas…
2. On veut être sure que ça nous plaise mais être surprise quand même…
3. On en veut un spontanément mais c’est bien de marquer les anniversaires
De quoi nous garder bien occupées et de challenger le plus brave parmi les braves
Bisous bisous!
Qu’est ce qu’on est chiantes en fait
Exactement
Happy Belated Birthday hon. What a fab present from hubby. I think anyone would love to receive a gift but a year of free massages it’s just awesome.
Well done hubby.
Thank you lovely
I am going to be a very relaxed wife/mummy for the next 12 months…or maybe it’s only wishful thinking