Yesterday was my birthday. It kind of brought home how little DH thinks of me.
Years ago, I became tired of planning, cooking and doing everything else for my birthday. It’s my birthday, dang it! Someone else should be doing the work! I have a spouse . He should do something. Anything. Flowers. Cook dinner. Something. I suppose that sounds a bit selfish, but I usually went all out for his birthday. Within reason, he had every wish granted for the day. That he did nothing for mine always bugged me. So I quit doing my own birthday and told him he should be the one planning it. What happened?
In the beginning, the kids tried to do what little they could. They handmade cards, tried to clean what they were able to for their ages, all birthdays were school holidays, etc. Over time, they began to resent that their father wasn’t doing anything, and they were taking up the slack. I didn’t like that they felt like that. They decided not to do anything to get their father to do something. What happened?
Absolutely nothing. No one did anything for it. It became like any other day of the year. I gave up doing anything for his birthday, because it caused way too much resentment in me. I tried ignoring it, telling myself I was taking the high road, but in the end it just felt like I was being taken advantage of. It seemed selfish of me to be upset over it but honestly, it hurt. It’s like everyone was saying I wasn’t important enough to do something for 1 day out of 365.
After several years of this, I said screw it. I went out and bought something I’ve always wanted:
I bought a Diamond Infinite Edge, arrows, tips, a child-proof case, etc., and I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. I want to learn to hunt, because it’s getting to the point where I may have to if I want meat that won’t make me sick. Step one is learning to actually shoot a bow.
Next year, I may go away for a weekend by myself.