Well that was anticlimactic

Yesterday was my birthday; I turned 28. I guess it's time to start calling myself late-twenties?

Happy Birthday, Mommy!

My January 3rd birthday has often been semi-forgotten as a result of its proximity to both Christmas and New Years. When Carina was born on December 28th, it has become even worse. This year I didn't even realize my birthday was right around the corner until the evening of January 1st.

Yesterday was no different than any other day, except that I got a pass to order whatever I wanted from the pizza place down the street (which I did - pepperoni pizza, mozzarella sticks, AND cheese fries...I can feel my arteries constricting as I type).

The weird thing is, it really doesn't bother me. The intention of this post isn't to whine...I guess it's just to say that I'm okay with simply acknowledging the day (so long as I can also gorge myself on greasy unforgiving takeout). The fanfare, elaborate gifts, and excitement that accompanied my birthday in years past just don't seem necessary anymore.


Does anyone else feel like their birthday has become anticlimactic? Is this a normal life transition? Or am I weird?

P.S. My gift from M arrives today! Check this baby out. Can't wait to play with it.