#1Hubby has been relentlessly taking the piss out of me in the lead up to today. FFS!?
In his opinion, 35 is not a big deal birthday. FFS!?
I beg to differ. As far as I'm concerned, once you hit 30, every 5 and 10 year birthday is cause for celebration.
Not that it matters much to him, because he won't make it to 45 for his next big celebration at this rate. FFS!?
At 21 I was newly married and didn't much understand the whole fuss about turning 21 and becoming an adult. Because, in my opinion, I'd already nailed it by getting married - the ultimate in grown up actions and celebrations.
At 30 I was exceptionally pregnant with the Twin Tornado. I would've eaten anyone who dared show up to celebrate.
Last year I was all toxic in ICU. Even though it wasn't a milestone birthday, it wasn't celebrated at all. Unless you count eating without a tube for the first time in a week, and being allowed to go to the toilet unassisted.
So today I am 35 and I want to celebrate.
Clearly I am maturing, as it's the first time I've strayed from my usual proclamations of being perpetually 24.
I did try that one on, one last time, and the smarmy little twat serving me at the bottle shop did openly sniggered. FFS!?
I have vowed never ever to set foot in that bottle shop again. FFS!?
As if. FFS!?
I can remember a time, not too many years ago, when declaring myself 24 was only met with doubtful smiles and mild skepticism. FFS!? So now that I'm coming to terms with my rapid decline, I have started my first ever skin care regime. No FFS!? When I say 'skin care regime', what I really mean is using up all the sample sachets of various body creams that I've amassed over the years in a mildly panicked and futile attempt to stop the aging process via Vaseline Intensive Care and Oil of Olay sachets. FFS!? I have been falling asleep at night before the kids. A true sign of age. FFS!? And I've been waking obscenely early. I am only 10 minutes shy of the elderly who meander through their gardens in floral flannelette nighties with cups of tea at 5am. FFS!? Gone are the days of wishing for killer heels and party dresses. Instead, I'm coveting a stick blender and a mixer. FFS!? In recognising my new elderly status, I am spending today partying hard. No FFS!? Because by tonight I will probably have a headache, sore bones, and need a lie down by 5pm. FFS!? I remember when I used to party like Britney, yo. FFS!? Don't even get me started on the WHITE hair I found in my fringe. FFS!?
