Thank you all for the birthday wishes last week! Those of you who have been reading me for a long time might have noticed that I didn’t write about my birthday once during the month leading up to it. I’m pretty sure that’s never happened in the ten-plus years I’ve been keeping this blog, and it likely will never happen again. Why? Because I am never going to have another baby so I will never again experience this soul crushing fatigue. You know, the epic tiredness that makes you say to your husband, “I am so tired that I think I might stop breathing. Can you set your alarm to make sure I’m still breathing in an hour?” Obviously, I am still working out the kinks in this two-child system.
Mike and the kids spoiled me on my birthday. I told Mike I wanted a mellow day. More specifically, I wanted a nap and a pedicure. He cleared his schedule and told me he’d make sure I got those things. Annabel came running into our bedroom at some ungodly hour and hollered, “Happy birthday, Mama!” And Mike ushered her out of the room, letting me sleep in. SLEEP! Who needs a nap when you can sleep until eight?
After I was up, Annie joined me in bed and gave me cards and pictures she drew. This one of our family was my favorite:
I told Mike not to buy me any gifts because my medical bills are ridiculous, but he still bought me a beautiful necklace:
It has a small birthstone for each of my kids, citrine for Madeline, garnet for Annabel, and emerald for James. I love it.
While I fed James, Mike and Annie made breakfast. I walked into the kitchen to this:
Homemade eggs benedict, yes please.
After breakfast I went to the nail salon and got a pedicure, but really the best part was sitting quietly in the electric massage chair. I even looked at a magazine! Then I walked the length of the mall. I told myself it was because I needed the exercise, and not because I was window shopping.
Of course, no birthday in our house is complete without cake, and Annabel was as excited about eating it as she was on her own birthday. She was upset that James couldn’t have any until I reminded her that his inability to eat cake meant more for her.
Even though it was a very laid-back birthday (by my standards), it was a great day. Thirty-three was not my favorite year, and other than James’ birth, I’m not sad to see it go. I get teased a lot about unabashedly loving my birthday, but I make no apologies. Another year of life, another year with my family and friends and babies…with everything life has thrown my way in the last six years, the good moments deserve to be celebrated. Birthdays are some of the best moments.