The Brutal Truth about Amber and Birthdays

Allrighty, more about that hectic weekend:

We'll skip Thursday, because I've already given you the run down on Thursday (all of Amber's Thursdays are brutal). But, Friday was my birthday. After 31 of them, I should be able to banish all the silly notions of magical birthday elves swooping in during the night, cleaning my home, sprinkling my children with cheerful-obedience dust, preparing a splendid breakfast, and leaving vases of flowers throughout my house. But, such ideals and secret hopes still cling to the corners of my mind, only to surface on my birthday (or Mothers Day or Christmas or Valentines Day). And I am filled with grumpy irritability as I wander through my day, dismayed to find the magic birthday elves have skipped my house once again. Isn't that awful? I'm a grown woman, I feel foolish for admitting this out loud.

So, needless to say, my day started on the wrong note (Amber wakes up to a trashed, post-Thursday house, and nothing for breakfast except Kix or whatever she can cook in 20 minutes), and went down hill from there. There was nothing really wrong with the day, it was just normal. But my bad attitude and unrealistic expectations (what DID I expect, really? My children to hop out of bed, clean the house to perfection, brush their teeth and trim their nails, and file into my bedroom with flowers and my breakfast on a tray, singing "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music"?) turned every normal Mommy moment into intentional personal attacks and premeditated sabotage. I missed three birthday phone calls in the morning, because I was running errands and bathing squirming girls (but they looked nice and clean for pictures, didn't they?). One was from a flower shop in town, making sure I was home for a floral delivery. Now, here is the depth of my rotten, immature mood: Most women LOVE flowers, and getting a delivered arrangement on their special day is the paragon of personal affirmation. Me? My first reaction is anger, because I just knew that the only person who would do that would be my charlatan of a father. It's the sort of over-the-top thing he would do - indeed, has done - and he typically tries to re-connect around my birthday. I secretly long for flowers on every one of my special days, but I did NOT want a flower arrangement from him! (I know, you're sighing and shaking your head at me and my entrenched self-centered immaturity...I know I am.)

As it turns out, the flowers were from my dear friend, Neesha, in Maryland, who not only remembered my birthday, but FTD'ed flowers to me. What a sweetie! I've never been FTD'ed in my life. When I read the note, and it was from her, I was so relieved, I almost started crying right there (almost, but not quite...I am a Pipkin, and Pipkins don't cry if they can help it). That was, I think, where my attitude began to soften, but it took a while to really surface.

Then, I tried to connect with Mark to go out to lunch, but he was in a meeting that ran long. We waited (but not long enough, apparently we missed him by minutes), and then I took the children to a restaurant that I had never been to. In their defense, they were really well-behaved, particularly for five kids with one adult in a restaurant during lunch rush. But I was so busy fuming about my birthday lunch being bombed by my husband, I didn't enjoy it much. When we finally connected with Mark, he was frustrated and confused, which only made me more irritated (because he didn't have my permission to do anything but be cheerful and supportive, I suppose...oh, the elaborate psychosis!). And, while I was with the kids at lunch, I missed more birthday phone calls...although, deep down, I was secretly glad, because I was in such a rotten mood, I didn't feel like being chipper and thankful and making small talk over the phone. Even though my kid brother called and sang to me in Spanish! I'm such a brat.

So, then it was time to get ready for family pictures. But Hyrum needed a haircut. We did that, but it took a really long time, and we had to call my friend-who-agreed-to-take-our-pictures and bump the time back an hour. More irritation and grumpiness (mine, not my friend...she was the picture of accommodation and willingness). Home to get everyone dressed, do hair, iron shirts, match socks and find shoes. More frustration. Poor Mark was doing his best to be reasonable and understanding, but when you're dealing with the Birthday Witch on Wheels, nothing you do/say is right.

Went to campus, met up with our photographer friend. Started snapping pictures right away. And, while she was taking pictures, people behind her were stopping and oohing and aahing at my beautiful family. One lady even got out her camera and snapped a few pictures! My conscience finally got through to me, and I suddenly felt guilty for being so selfish and ungrateful. I am so blessed! We took loads of photos. It was a little chilly, and the sun was bright, so there were problems with squinting and shadows and such. The kids wanted to play instead of pose (except Lucy, who kept stopping and saying, "take a picture of me doing this!"). Yvy was tired and hungry. I wanted to keep going way after the children were done cooperating. But my heart was softening, and I was able to find joy in the day, instead of resentment. When we got home, there was another FTD delivery waiting for me on the porch: Shiloh, starvings struggling college student that she is, sent me African Violets and a box of chocolates! How can I be so blind and ungrateful? Mark took on the kids, and washed the dishes, so that I was able to veg at the computer and start sorting and editing all the pictures. Looking at the smiling faces of my family, I was as happy as a clam. I stayed up until almost midnight tweeking and cropping and posting.

Then, Saturday, I got up at 5:45 a.m. (!) in order to be dressed and ready and in Independence by 8:30 a.m. for the Little Philmont conference. I was privileged to hear General Young Men's President Dahlquist and Primary General President Sister Lifferth speak. It went on for six hours, and was simply wonderful. I left with my bucket brimming and my brain spinning.

Sunday, I gave a presentation at Primary Inservice, and then spoke at the Seminary Fireside (which I planned and did the refreshments for and cleaned up after....and am leaving when I'm done with this post to go back and clean up the chocolate on the rug in the vestibule from the chocolate fountain!)

So, it was a crazy weekend. But, it was wonderful, and everything I was stressed about turned out just fine, like it usually does. Please, Dear Lord, forgive me for my narrow perspective and my shallow heart. I am so blessed!.