I have a love/hate relationship with February, that I think I've mentioned before. In the beginning of the month we're always wrapping up our Girl Scout cookie sale which always proves to be hectic. By the Superbowl Sunday my co-leader and I are usually ready to pull our hair out and put a formal ban on the words "Tagalong" and "Samoa" within our earshot.
Then we have Valentines Day, which can either be the most wonderful day or the most disappointing day, depending on our expectations. This year I was happy to pick out my own roses at the grocery store and remark on how beautiful they were every day as they opened up. Bug, still a little tender from his break-up, had moved on to another cute face and had a less than favorable response from her when he attempted to woo her with chocolate and a teddy bear on Valentines Day. Middle school can be brutal, y'all.
Rounding out the end of the month is my birthday, which has officially moved from being the happiest day of the year to another reminder of time's constant passing. I'm less than a week away to the big three five and I'll be happy when it's passed, I guess. I wish I could be more like those people who, no matter the year, are elated when it's their day. They look forward to it, they plan it, they get excited about the attention and the gifts and the hub bub.
Don't get me wrong - I do enjoy celebrating the day with my family. I just enjoy it a little more when it's one of their birthdays we're celebrating, not mine. This year I plan on sitting on the beach with my toes buried in the sand and a cold margarita in hand, and I'll try to just look at it as a beautiful day with my family.
I do love a good margarita.
Friday, February 17, 2012