Slippery

The slippery slope toward Munchkin’s birthday has begun. In fact, it began awhile ago but I’ve been too busy to stop and take notice. I do prefer to stay busy in the week or so leading up to her birthday. I do also like to have some time to breathe. I have not had such time, however, and as such I can’t really decide how I feel this year.

It’s weird, really. Possibly in a good way.

I know that her birthday will be awesome this year. She’ll be in Disney with D, M and JD and a large number of their extended family. How cool is that? I was in Disney for my tenth birthday and I can still remember just how awesome that felt. I’m so excited for her that I could just burst.

I’m wondering, then, if that is why I’m not completely overwhelmed with emotion this year. On top of my crazy schedule, whenever I think of her birthday, I think of Disney and it just makes me happy. And then, of course, I feel wrong for feeling happy. What birth mother feels happy on their child’s birthday? I feel as if I am wronging her if I am not sad and full of remorse. And then, when I remember years in which I was sad and full of remorse, I felt as though I was wronging her by not being happy that she was part of my life.

I can’t win.

I’m sure the emotions will be somewhat more intense on her birthday this Sunday. They always are. I head into her birthday week expecting to feel one way. During the week, I always feel differently than I expect. Then her birthday plops itself into my consciousness as I wake up on her special day and anything I was expecting to feel or do earlier in the week or even the night before is made null and void.

Something about having expectations and plans and God laughing at me probably has something to do with it. Isn’t that the way it goes?

All I know right now, at this very moment, is that I am missing her and simultaneously wishing her the best birthday possible this weekend. That’s mostly how my thoughts of her go right now. I want the very best for her, at all times, and, at the same time, I just simply miss her. Not in an overwhelmingly depressed way. Not in a regretful, angry way. I miss her in the way that any mother misses their child when they are separated. She’s just so awesome and I want the very best for her.

Now to keep busy this week. Shouldn’t be all that difficult…