On Birthdays and Self-Loathing

My birthday sucks. It has for many, many years. I've come to expect it. However, I now have a toddler. A sweet, innocent, wide-eyed child, for whom birthdays are still new and magical, and without disappointment. This post should be about how magical A's birthday was, and what it meant to me as his mom- but it's not. I have that one in his baby book. The other side of the story is...

Yesterday was my baby's birthday. I had to work, and Tuesdays are my long day. You see, I work an extra job one day a week to help make ends meet. I do this not because I want to, but because my baby's daddy decided that helping with those ends wasn't so very important to him. So after my 12 hour day, my "family" went out to eat to celebrate the rest of the birthday that I had to miss. We never do anything together anymore, an after all, it was a special occasion. GRANTED, it was my bright idea, but...

The three of us go the restaurant. We sit, we order, we bicker like always, and we eat. Austin, in true celebratory mode, proceeds to throw all his kids meal (which we NEVER order him, because he just wants to share... but it was a special occasion!) into the floor in true baby gangsta fashion. You know, like those rap guys popping bottles of Cristal champagne just to pour them out over the hoochy back-up dancers. What a waste.

But I digress. Let's fast-forward to the check. The server brings it. Baby Daddy has been working for over a month now, so I make no move for it. Neither does he. It was like a classic game of stare down without the staring. He knew the check was there; I knew the check was there. He knew that I knew, and vice versa. But neither of us made a move. Finally, he cracked. He picked up the check, pulled out his wallet, and I began feeling victorious (which never, ever ends well for me). I thought that this, THIS, was the moment. The moment I had aspired to for over a year. The moment that I was validated not just as an incubator and ATM, but as a mother and human being. But alas, the moment was quickly crushed when he pulled out a single bill and passed the check to me. He wanted to split it. I was livid.

Before you pass judgment, let me mention that this restaurant was Logan's Road House. And we ordered off the "2 for $14.99" menu. Granted, we both had soft drinks, and we did splurge for that special kid's meal. I realize that in the grand scheme of life, it's not such a big deal- but really? Really? This is the thanks I get for carrying his child for 9 months (3 of which were spent on bed rest), giving birth, and busting my ass to single-handedly support our family? I'm not worth 2 for $14.99?

Insanity has been defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

And the moral of the story, kids, is "Don't get knocked up." And if you do, be sure to either run his background check and FICO score first, or be prepared to lower your standards- significantly.


At least Logan's has good rolls.