It's My Party, and I'll Cry If I Want To.

I wished I could forget my birthday this year.  And not because I'm concerned about my age.  I couldn't care less that I turned 33 on March 29, 2013.  Or, that I am exactly two months older than Nick.

This year, my birthday was less-than ideal.

Nick had to work, the morning of my birthday.  So, it was pretty much business as usual around the house.  Except, I swear, the kids were more ornery than normal.  No one wanted to cooperate.  I didn't end up taking Reagan to dance class, because I just didn't feel like fighting with her, to get her to go.  Usually, she loves dance.  But this particular Friday, she wasn't feeling it.

I had some friends send me birthday wishes. And Family too.  My Mom was in town looking for houses (see previous post), and asked if she could take me to lunch.

We went to small cafe called, Bite Sized, in Farmington.  It is my new favorite lunch place.  They have an artichoke, chicken Caesar salad that is delish.  It was the middle of the day, so the kids had to accompany us.  Reagan and Elsa kept running out of the cafe after we ordered.  Chasing them around was so much fun!  Not.  Mom and I ended up getting our lunch to go, and eating it in the car.

Cohen enjoyed his flutternutter sandwich.

Nick had told me that he was getting off work early, to do some birthday shopping for me, and so that he could make it home in time to take me to dinner at a restaurant I'd been wanting to try, Franck's.

None of the kids wanted to nap.  Any time this happens, it makes life far more difficult for me.

The afternoon of my birthday was also the day of the neighborhood Easter egg hunt.  I hauled all three little ones up the street to seek out Easter eggs.  The hunt itself was good.  But after the activity Elsa ran off, and when I found her she was throwing enormous clumps of concrete in to a deep hole, in one of the neighbors yard's.  Apparently, that neighbor had dug the hole to reach a water line.  I had to jump down in the hole to remove all of the rock that had been put back in it.  In Elsa's defense, I ought to say that I am not certain she threw anything in.  There was another boy near the hole with her, so I don't know if Elsa was participating, or trying to stop the other kid?

Anyway, I brought the kids home.  When I got there I discovered that Nick was not home.  Quite the contrary.  He was still at work.  The other pharmacist that was supposed to work had called in sick.  And Nick wasn't sure if a replacement had been found?  Rather than being early, he was going to be late.  And he didn't know how late.

I called the babysitter, to delay.  And this was when I started to feel a twinge of "sorry for myself".

The kids were all dirty from playing outside.  I figured, that while I was waiting for Nick to get home, I'd bathe them.

I put Reagan and Cohen in the tub.  While I was doing this, unbeknownst to me, Elsa stripped down.  She whipped off her pull-up right outside the bathroom door.  It had poop in it (another thing I did not know).  I started to cry a little bit, while I was cleaning up Elsa's mess.  Then, insult to injury, Reagan yelled from the bathtub that Cohen was pooping!

He pooped in the tub, and it wasn't a small amount.

At that point in time I started sobbing.  Like, body-wracking, heaving, so-not-pretty sobs.  I cannot even remember the last time I lost it like that?

I bawled as I cleaned the tub.  It was a full-on pity party!



I texted Nick that I didn't want to bother with dinner.  We had missed our reservations at Franck's anyway.

Nick made it home around 5:30PM, he brought me red roses.  I was still mad, and disappointed.  I kept telling myself that Nick's arrival time wasn't his fault.  Eventually, I took a deep breath and decided to stop punishing him.  And me.

The babysitter came over, and Nick and I went to dinner at Texas Roadhouse.

While I was gone, the babysitter helped the kids make me birthday cards.  It was very sweet.  And the babysitters Mom (who is also my visiting teaching partner, and good friend) brought over a bouquet of flowers, and a balloon.

The next morning, Nick surprised me with breakfast in bed.  He made blueberry cream cheese sandwich pockets, and bacon and avocado breakfast wraps.  I love that Nick can cook.  I also love that Nick knows me well, and can forgive me when I act like a juvenile.

In the afternoon, my Mom paid for take-out from our favorite local Indian restaurant.  Heather brought two pies (I prefer pie to cake) over, and we all celebrated.  The day after my birthday was a lot better.