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Happy my birthday to you!
My parents always make noises about how it isn't actually my birthday until 11:57 p.m. on July 26, but they never actually made me wait that long to start celebrating, and I don't think you should wait that long to start having a good day, either.
I am eating my scone, in a tradition I made up for myself as an adult, and I opened the card from our family in Stockholm, to observe an older tradition. Twenty years ago, for my tenth birthday, we were in Ludvika staying with family, and they did the traditional Swedish birthday morning for me. They woke me singing and brought in presents and a lovely banana breakfast torte. My mom was afraid I'd get up before they were ready and spoil the whole thing, but they'd sent me enough Swedish children's books that I knew.
I don't have any firm plans until mid-afternoon and my family party. I will think of lovely and birthdayish ways to entertain myself. (Well, and PT.) My grandparents are driving up this morning -- they couldn't come last night because of another family member's health stuff -- so there's no hurry to get down to my parents' hours in advance of the party.
Yesterday the timing of dinner plans worked out that I got some good solid one-on-one time with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
matastas before dinner and dlandon after dinner. I think one of the things that's been socially hardest with the vertigo is that I feel like it's very hard for me to propose social interactions where the other person does all the work ("will you drive down here and get me, but I can't cook or bake or anything," basically), and that's wound up with less one-on-one time than I really prefer. I know it's not something that's unique to only children, but I think that does contribute to how much the back of my brain expects that one-on-one interactions are the norm. And group things can be lovely, too. It was just nice to have a chance for one-on-one conversation with each of two of my friends. A good start to my 30th birthday weekend.
I am eating my scone, in a tradition I made up for myself as an adult, and I opened the card from our family in Stockholm, to observe an older tradition. Twenty years ago, for my tenth birthday, we were in Ludvika staying with family, and they did the traditional Swedish birthday morning for me. They woke me singing and brought in presents and a lovely banana breakfast torte. My mom was afraid I'd get up before they were ready and spoil the whole thing, but they'd sent me enough Swedish children's books that I knew.
I don't have any firm plans until mid-afternoon and my family party. I will think of lovely and birthdayish ways to entertain myself. (Well, and PT.) My grandparents are driving up this morning -- they couldn't come last night because of another family member's health stuff -- so there's no hurry to get down to my parents' hours in advance of the party.
Yesterday the timing of dinner plans worked out that I got some good solid one-on-one time with
matastas before dinner and dlandon after dinner. I think one of the things that's been socially hardest with the vertigo is that I feel like it's very hard for me to propose social interactions where the other person does all the work ("will you drive down here and get me, but I can't cook or bake or anything," basically), and that's wound up with less one-on-one time than I really prefer. I know it's not something that's unique to only children, but I think that does contribute to how much the back of my brain expects that one-on-one interactions are the norm. And group things can be lovely, too. It was just nice to have a chance for one-on-one conversation with each of two of my friends. A good start to my 30th birthday weekend.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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