Feeling like a kid on my birthday

For as long as I can remember, I've loved telling people my birthday.

Short of putting it on a billboard (or on a banner behind a small airplane), I make sure I announce its arrival to everyone I know.

Honestly, I'm not looking for gifts. I'm not even expecting cards. (Baked goods maybe.)

But when August 15th rolls around, I simply want friends to stop and think, "Oh, yea! Today is Nancy's birthday." 

My constant reminding has paid off. 

Most of my friends can tell you my birthday without hesitation. Even friends I haven't seen in years can recall the date.

And, even if they don't call or write, I know when I wake up on my birthday, they are thinking of me.

That's all I've ever wanted.

Until this year.

This year, I'll admit I was hoping for something.

Expecting rather.

When I turned on my phone first thing in the morning, I anxiously went to Facebook.

Surely some night owl, well-wisher had posted "Happy Birthday!" at 12:01 a.m. and I couldn't wait to read it as well as all the other messages that I envisioned flooding in.

But, not one message.

Suddenly, I felt like a disappointed kid. Childhood memories of being unpopular came to mind.

Everybody gets Facebook Birthday messages. Why not me?

The feelings of my 10-year-old self didn't feel good.  I much prefer the feelings of my grown-up self who just imagines people remembering my birthday!

An hour went by and I checked again.

Still, nothing.

Since I was visiting a friend, I felt rude constantly checking my phone but I couldn't resist.

Finally, my friend asked, "Nancy, why don't you have your birthday posted on your Facebook page?"

Like a kid, I rushed to check my settings.

Wrong!

Like a mother who has no idea how to do anything on my phone, I texted my son for help.

When he didn't respond fast enough, that's when, like a kid, I quickly went to my settings.

My hands were almost shaking in my haste. My friend pointed out the lock icon on my birthday.

That's it! My birthday wasn't "public."

Then I remembered.

Like an adult, I decided not to post my birthday when I set up my Facebook page for fear someone would steal my identity.

But, to heck with my identity, I wanted my Facebook birthday messages so I quickly corrected it.

Within minutes, my first two Birthday wishes appeared (thanks Travis and Shelley).

As the day went on, more and more wishes popped up (thanks Mark Zuckerberg and all of my wonderful Facebook friends).

Next year, I hope I can act my age. Maybe I'll wait until the end of the day to read my wishes all at one time.

Or maybe, I'll delete my birthday all together and enjoy my birthday wishes in my imagination.

Then again, maybe I'll stare at my phone all day and go one step further and compare the number of "Birthday wishes" I get with someone else on Facebook who has more than me and sulk like a kid.

Sure hope not.

Where oh where are my birthday messages?
Oh where oh where can they be?

The Art of Doing Nothing

Years ago, my husband gave me a small gift book entitled, "The Art of Doing Nothing."

When I read the cover, I smiled but felt a bit confused given the fact that I epitomized the title.

In fact, I could have written it.

When I opened the book, I saw words.  Lots and lots of words. The mere sight of chapter after chapter explaining how to "do nothing" caused me to close the book and never open it again.

Don't get me wrong. I love the book and the fact that it reminded him of me.

To this day, I like seeing it sitting there looking cute on the end table in our sunroom.

But, a book about doing nothing should simply have short phrases. Blank pages, maybe. Perhaps, just pictures of people doing nothing. Clearly, not long explanations about how to do it.

It's just not that complicated.

But then again, maybe it is for people who aren't experts like me.

So many people have a problem with doing nothing. They feel bored or guilty sitting around not accomplishing anything.

They are the types that simply, "have to be doing something."

I, on the other hand, am excellent at sitting quietly doing nothing.

Sure, my brain is still working.

Well, sometimes.

As I sit silently, I think about what I need at the grocery store. Or, ponder what I should be doing.

Other times, I look out the window and find it amusing how much green I see or stare at my dog and admire how cute he is.

Occasionally, I start planning my daughter's wedding (even though she isn't currently dating anyone) or I reminisce about how much fun we had at the beach at the beginning of the summer.

But, sometimes, I simply sit.

I suppose you could call it an art.

But, really it's nothing.

You are the cutest dog in the whole wide world!
and
To my dear husband, thank you for not giving me the book,
"Get up and do something, why don't ya?