I love birthdays. No, scratch that. I love my birthday. I look forward to my birthday with an enthusiasm that is almost completely embarrassing now that I am no longer 10 years old. Oh yes, I’m that person who, on June 1, declares it her “birthday month”. I also crow about my “birthday week”, which has slowly crept to encompass the 5-7 days around my actual birthdate.
Mr. Potato Head has to remind me, gently, so as not to burst my over-inflated bubble, that I get a day, and that this is not Hanukkah, and I will not actually be receiving eight nights of gifts.
My 29th birthday month was this past June, and I had a happy weekend of celebrating with friends. But I have to admit to something, and it’s kinda embarrassing. But. It is a learning experience, and at 29, I need all the wisdom I can get.
On my actual birthday, I woke up and things, well… started going Not My Way. I had to stay up until 3:30 AM the night before to finish some work, then wake up at 7 AM on my birthday to get it done before the deadline. My car was in the shop and the mechanic called to let me know that it required more work (and monies) than they’d thought. My beach plans were ruined by bad weather, my fiance had to work, and finally, on the way to brunch with friends, we were stuck in traffic for an hour only to wait for ages for our food to arrive.
So I came home, and my fiance came home, and, well, I kinda pouted.
I was overtired and disappointed. And I was in a funk. And when I’m in a funk it can ruin my whole day. Sometimes it feels physically impossible to snap myself out of it, and no amount of cheering up will do the trick. It’s silly and it’s childish and I’m totally embarrassed to admit it, but it’s true. Sometimes I am just a Grumpy Bear, and so-help-me if you even try to cheer me up. I’m set, I’m down, I’m out of batteries, the end. Let me sulk in my rain cloud until the day starts again.

Ooh why you so grumpy, bear??
But the sun came out, literally and figuratively, and after a talk and a run with Mr. PH, my funk slowly, miraculously dissolved.
And I got to thinking. What if, on the wedding day, everything begins to go wrong? What if the weather sucks and my hair is frizzy and people are late and the car doesn’t start and the flowers are fug? Will a bad mood escape me just because of my wedding day? Probably not. I mean, I can’t guarantee anything. And even though I anticipate a laid-back, chill wedding, it is still a grand production that we’ve spent months planning for, and years waiting for. There will be, for better or for worse, some expectations attached. More likely, I need to practice what I did on my birthday: looking at the bright side (I got a day off, yummy brunch with good friends, a great run, and later, kicked it in karaoke!), rolling with the punches, and not allowing the grumps to ruin my day.
How do you handle mood swings and the grumps? Are you also determined to stay cheerful on your wedding day, come hell or high water?
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