Sunday morning blogging

I've been up for about two hours now.

Sunday morning have always been quiet times for me. When The Kid was home, I'd get up early to take her to church (she always wanted to go to the early service...7AM early). I'd drive her to the church (right around the corner from the house, but with her bad feet and bad eyesight, it was easier for me to drive her), come home and shower. By the time I was done (as Julie will tell you, I take more time in the bathroom than she does), church would be over. I'd go get her, and we'd go out for breakfast and grocery shopping.

These days, I sleep in a little later. Get up, still take too much time in the bathroom, and come downstairs for a bit of breakfast (this morning, cereal, but some days I'll make microwave pancakes and sausage on the Foreman grill), and ease into the Sunday slowly.

Around lunchtime, I'll get in the car and drive out to check on The Kid. Usually, by the time I get there, they've put her down in bed for an afternoon nap (they get her up around 6, and usually after lunch, she's a little tired, even if she refuses to admit it). I sometimes have them get her up, or I'll pull up the chair next to the bed and visit.

At least, that's what I've done.

Tomorrow, I leave for three weeks with Julie. With any luck, I'll find a job out there, and I'll start the process of moving out to be closer to her.

My life until now had been dull, boring and routine. Not any longer.

I'd always known (and I've mentioned it here in the pages of this blog) that my 40th year on this planet would bring changes to my life. I just never realized how big those changes would be.

The 40th year is drawing to a close. Yeah, that day is almost upon us. Julie said to me last night that she thinks I want to make more of a big deal of it than I'm saying. Honestly, it'll be nice (and different) to spend my birthday with someone who loves me. I've tried to do that before, and it hasn't worked out too well.

It's been a very long time since I've celebrated a birthday. When I was 16, my brothers blew off my birthday because they had tickets to a football game. There was no party, no celebration, no nothing. After that, I decided I didn't want another party. Acknowledge the day, as I've long told my friends, and then let's move on.

It used to frustrate My Kid because she wanted to do something, anything, for my birthday. I told her no cake, no presents, nothing. I just wanted to take the day off work, sleep in, and maybe go out for a nice dinner. That's all. She'd try and find something silly for me, and I appreciated it. I knew how hard it was for her to do or get anything.

On my 39th birthday, she was in the mental hospital. I went up to visit with her, but I told the staff not to tell her it was my birthday...I didn't want her remembering or feeling bad because she couldn't do anything for me, not that she could. She was coming out of therapy when I came in to see her. A nurse was writing a report and asked what's the date. I said it, and The Kid said "why does that sound familiar". I told her it wasn't important...it wasn't anything special.

This year, we'll do the same. It'll be just another day. Acknowledge it and move on.

I'll be spending it with the woman I love. Maybe we'll go out for dinner. Maybe I'll just get an extra long hug from her. Doesn't matter. All I want is to be with her.

Hm. Not sure where this all came from. Just started typing and it poured out. Maybe these are things I needed to say.

They're said now. I think I'll disable comments for this post. Just accept this for what it is...