You say it’s your birthday!


This post has really no point, except that I haven’t posted anything in about a year so I figured I should write something so I can keep the illustrious title of “blogger” and it’s my birthday so voila! Instant topic! (Not posting may have been caused by various incidents that have left me tired…and may or may not have included things like King Toot locking himself in our bedroom and wreaking havoc while we try to unlock or remove the door knob to save our room from complete destruction, a trip to the lake with a new kayak, a three year old that I swear will be hitting puberty tomorrow based on her bipolar meltdowns….you know…life)

So…it’s my birthday! I would put myself in the category of “not old but no longer young”. The older I get, the less I care about huge celebrations. I still want to do something to commemorate the fact that I came into this world and began existing…mainly because I’m awesome and such an event should be commemorated sheerly out of principle.
But no longer do large parties entice me. No, now I dream of other things to make my birthday special.

– sleeping in. Past dawn. And waking up not to alarms, wailing, fussing, fighting, bawling, etc. But to actually just wake up because I am no longer tired.
– a nap. One that isn’t interrupted with someone yelling at the top of their lungs “I pooped! Can you wipe me!” Yes, I am grateful that they now poop in toilets (minus one) as it saves money and is a lot less messy. Yet it’s still hard to rejoice when everything is actually quiet and that hope for a few moments to catch up on sleep seems to become a reality…only to reach beautiful sleep and be awoken to yet another bottom needing to be wiped. (I have sometimes morbidly wondered what the girls would say if I answered that question with a no)
– cake. and cookies. and good fatty, chemically altered, greasy or sugary, yummy goodness. Basically, I want to engorge myself like the glutton I am constantly trying not to be. A neighbor girl brought cake to Bible Study last night and the left overs are on the counter. The only thing preventing me from making that breakfast is that the kids are awake and so I’d have to share it if I did. Oh, and I’m NOT counting calories today. It’s my birthday so I don’t need to have the depression that comes from knowing you ate a weeks worth of calories before breakfast.
– my birthday doesn’t even need to be free if complaining and whining. I just want today to be the day where other people deal with it. To hear Sasquatch whining, “She won’t be a puppy for me, and she’s touching my puzzle, and the dog licked my toy, and my brother is breathing my air” and know that I don’t have to meditate with patience and wisdom every spat that erupts. That when Urpling starts shrieking, “No! It’s mine!” or wailing because I asked her to turn off the TV so we can eat, someone else will tell her that life will surely go on if she’ll just get off the floor and try living again.
– all inquiries from children will receive the following answer, “that question should start with dad…”

Basically I want to be a lazy sluggard who eats what she wants when she wants to, lays around doing pretty much nothing but eating, and then celebrates her eating by eating some more. (did I mention I have an unhealthy attachment to food? I’m sure if I had a therapist they would have a field day…which is why I don’t have a therapist…)

So basically, it’s my birthday so I’m off to go eat and ignore my kids. Hope your day is great too!

PS. I’m joking. I love my kids…I won’t ignore them. I’ve set aside time from 1:55-2:09 this afternoon just for them.

PPS I also want to celebrate by playing hours of the crack laced game of Candy Crush…so everyone should send me free lives for my birthday!

Update: My kids chilling with me this morning…Happy Birthday to me!




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