Happy Fucking Birthday to me!!!!

Well folks, Im 39 today! The picture in this blog is the view from my bedroom where i am currently typing in comfort from. My husband isnt much for decorations but he knows I am. He is an amazing man and Im lucky to have him.

I woke up this morning and instantly wanted to blog. I wanted to share my joy with whomever wanted to read it. Because I realized something. The average time frame between diagnosis and death for IBC was 15-18 months just prior to 2006. It’s been about that time since I was diagnosed. 2006 was just 13 years ago. It’s amazing to think that if I had been born at a different time frame in all of history (or least prior to 2006), I would not be alive to tell you all that “It’s my birthday, Bitches!!” It’s just incredible to think about that. I actually think about that a lot. I’m laying here in bed with my new leg and back pillow wedges my husband got me with my new weighted blanket wrapped around me. I am going to go kitten browsing later. (I crack myself up). So, maybe I’ll meet a new little fuzzy friend. Currently, my children are sleeping and my husband is decorating and wrapping a ‘few’ things. Yesterday, I made two cheesecakes and homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast and dessert later. I will make my crab pot pie later which I’m super excited about. Yummy! I have failed in years past to mention that I do not want to clean the house on my birthday. I resent it and so that was literally the only idea I could think of, so pat on the back to myself on that one. Did i mention that fabulous hubby is picking up the house too? He’s doing a fabulous job so far! I’m happy aready! Blanket, pillows, kitten, house cleaning and decorations! Yay!

I love birthdays. I feel it is everyone’s personal holiday. I try to plan and treat myself on my birthday. I worked one day ever on my birthday because I completely forgot to put it as a vacation day, and I begged to go home at one point and my boss let me leave. My brother has his own company and on their birthdays, they get the day off with holiday pay. Love it! Most people I know don’t even celebrate it much and go to work and treat it as any other day. I feel these people must be depresssed or they hate getting older or some shit. That’s dumb. They are doing it wrong. It’s YOUR special fucking day and no one should give more shits about it than YOU! Why? Well, because you are ALIVE! I celebrate me and the fact that im alive. My birthday gift every year truly already happened because im there to celebrate it. That’s what it comes down to. I celebrate my being alive, and damnit, I fucking love life. Love it, embrace it! Let go of any ideas of what you should have accomplished at that age. Fuck that. Life truly is a gift and it can be taken away at any moment, and you know what?! It WILL! We will all die. But, today, I live. You live. Today, its my motherfuking birthday, bitches! And I will spend it snuggled with love from my family, and friends (and possibly a kitten). A few friends and I are gonna go paint ceramics at a little local shop that allows you to just walk in, pick out a ceramic, paint it at a table (oh, and they have two resident cats, too. Bonus!) drink wine if we want and just relax. Yay! About 18 months ago, most of these friends weren’t as close. Cancer brought us closer. It’s amazing the blessings through this damn cancer ordeal that have occurred. I love this adventures called life and “Happy Fucking Birthday” to me!