Happy Birthday to Me!

It sounds so weird coming out of my mouth (or my keyboard), but…I’m 20 years old.  I’m not a teenager anymore.  I will never be part of that group that old people call “those pesky teenagers.”  Otherwise, there’s not really much of a difference between being 19 and being 20.  Lately, I’ve just been feeling so old.  I have jury duty this week (yikes), I scheduled my own dentist appointment (it’s more ground breaking than you think), set up an appointment to get braces put on (double yikes) and I had a job interview last week.  Oh my goodness, I’m old!

For my birthday every year, my mom makes us whatever we want for dinner, whether we live at home or not, whether she has time or not, and whether anyone else can make it or not.  She wants you to feel special on your day.  That’s why I love my mom.  She insists you get what you want on your birthday.  When my brothers and I were in high school, the birthday person would get the front seat on the way to school.  You have no idea how much off a fuss we threw over riding in the front seat.  She also doesn’t make us set the table, let the dog out…little things.  But they all count!

Tonight, she made me pork and cashew stir fry.  I haven’t had it in a while and it beats cafeteria food any day.  Amazingly enough, the recipe is gluten-free as is!  If anyone wants it, I will post it.  It’s so simple and good!  For me, any rice dish warms my tummy up and makes me happy.  And for dessert…one of these bad boys!

I used to get Dairy Queen ice cream cakes for my birthday every year.  And my brothers would have them.  And my parents.  And my friends.  Once I was diagnosed with Celiac, that tiny, millimeter strip of cookie in the middle of the vanilla and chocolate ice cream became quite the problem.  I would spend more time digging out the cookie pieces than eating the actual cake.  Then, we discovered we could call Dairy Queen the day before and ask them to make the cake without cookie but still with the fudge in the middle (obviously).  So that’s what we did this year again.

Know that options are out there!  You can still have an amazeballs birthday.

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2 thoughts on “Happy Birthday to Me!

  1. Ok, you really can’t call yourself old at 20 or you’ll be geriatric by 30, and let’s not talk about 40. Seriously, 20 is just the beginning in so many ways. Yeah, you’re not a teenager anymore but that’s overrated anyhow 🙂 Happy Birthday! Your mom sounds lovely.
    -Dana

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