Not bad for a middle-ager

I took the day off from work yesterday because it was my birthday and I don't work on my birthday.  When I was a flight attendant, birthdays were counted as holidays and you didn't have to work.  If you chose to, you got paid double?  Time and a half?  I don't know, some union thing.  We got paid for everything when I was a flight attendant - I LOVE unions.


Anyway, the not-working-on-my-birthday stuck and now I try to take the day off whenever I can.  I had such grand plans - I was going to take a yoga class (but not sweat my brains out because, helloo, preggo!), paint the bookcase thingies for the baby's room, spend time with Drew and take a 'me' day.  None of that happened and that's all right by me.


In case you haven't noticed, I've been under a serious case of the pregnancy sads.  I've tried to dilute it here because who really wants to visit your blog and it's all Sylvia Plath and woe and emo and stupid dumbness?  Not this guy, that's for sure!  But as much as I wanted to shake it, I couldn't so I gave up and just gave into the sads, only because I knew it was temporary and the whole 'this too shall pass' stuff.


I was chatting with Kesha on Gmail the day before my birthday telling her all about my sads (bless her soul for listening to my drivel) and she asked me about my birthday plans, to which I responded all teenage-emo-like and said 'Nothing.  I don't even feel like it.  I'm probably just going to lay in bed and do nothing all day.'  Thankfully, she talked me off the ledge and encouraged me to go ahead and go out to dinner with Drew, as he told me a week prior that he made dinner reservations.


Double thankfully, yesterday I magically woke up feeling better.  Not because it was my birthday, well not just because it was my birthday, but the hormone beasts had decided to give me a frickin break already.  I hate the sads.


My parents called me early in the morning and I answered the phone, so this time there were no voicemail messages but it was still sweet to hear from them.  They also sent me cards that arrived on my birthday which is something I'm always in awe of.  No matter how hard I try, I canNOT get birthday presents/cards sent in time.  I can put reminders in bold sparkly letters on my calendar, my phone, my hands and face and I still will get presents to you weeks late.  I don't know what it is - it takes an act of God for me to get birthday presents delivered on time, so I'm especially appreciative of people who do and always forgiving of people who can't.  I get it, dude, I get it.


After my calls from my parents, Drew gave me the prettiest card that made me smile and forgive him for not reading my hormone-addled mind and making me cry because he doesn't know exactly what to say and precisely when to say it.  All is forgiven babe, I love you again.


Then I went to the bathroom for the first of my 12,000 daily trips and there was another card from him to me sitting on the toilet.  Well, the back of the toilet.  Maybe he wanted to make sure I wouldn't miss it?  Well done, babe!  I was confused at first, but these days the toilet is where you should leave stuff if you want to be sure I'll find it.

I moved them to my nightstand because 
although the toilet is a great spot to find things, 

you shouldn't leave them there.  You should probably write that down.

It was already shaping up to be a good day - I felt better and went ahead and decided to abandon my plan of staying in bed all day.  Drew took me to breakfast but he did need to work because my birthday is not yet a national holiday so we had to head out right then so he could get back and get some work done.

Yes, this is what I slept in.

Yes, those are stains on my shirt from dinner the night before - I put Shout on them!

They just didn't come out.

Yes, I went out in public like this.

Yes to all of it - it was my birthday.

He thinks he looked so much better just 'cause he's wearing

his fancy sunglasses.  He does not have a cap with a fancy 

school on it.  I win.

I kept asking him if I looked like I was 35.  After a long pause, he simply answered "You look homeless."  That's all right, it's my birthday.  I can look any way I want.  Is it bad that no one batted an eye when we walked in to the diner?  And we weren't the worst-looking ones in there?  

I was feeling like French toast but interestingly, the baby most definitely was not.  Either that, or she got super excited over all the sugar.  She definitely has patterns and doesn't get active until later in the morning and she was probably jolted awake at 8am, feeling like she was main-lining powdered sugar and syrup.  Whatever it was, I was only about 2/3 done with my meal and I started having contractions!  Yeah fine, Braxton-Hicks but they were serious!  I was apologizing for coking her up with sugar, promising never to disturb her sleep like that again if she would just calm down with all the tightening of the stomach and the stabby pains and things.  No dice.  We had to leave super-quick and go straight home where I promptly got back in bed, hoping that I didn't cause permanent damage.  No more French toast for me!  And from now on, no sugar for breakfast!  My poor kid, she was probably like WHOA!  I was sleeping here!  WTF Mom!  And then I would ground her because ladies don't use language like that.  

The contractions eventually stopped and I felt safe enough to get back out of bed and take a shower, still apologizing for disturbing Her Majesty's slumber.

Now, here's where you get excited about my day.  I met with our pediatrician!!  Fun stuff!  Then I went to the hardware store!!  Then I got my brows waxed!!  Prime birthday activities, I tell ya!  I know you're jealous.

But then, the real fun of the evening came.

Drew threw me a surprise birthday party!

Isn't he the sweetest!  Again babe, all is forgiven.  

Unbeknownst to me, my hubby snuck around and contacted a big bunch of our friends and asked them to come out for my birthday!  I was completely surprised and it was a great evening!  And I didn't wear my pajamas.

You know the drill - the picture's blurry, I don't know how to work

my camera, apologies apologies.

Granted, this was when we came home but I wanted photographic evidence of 

me in 3 inch heels at 8.5 months pregnant.

Also, my stomach is huge and my dog is licking herself.  
Yeah, that about covers it.

Slightly cheesy smile, but at least the dog's grossness is cropped out.

I was on the phone with Kesha as I was getting ready to leave.

To come see her at the restaurant.

She's a scary good liar - I'm glad she's my friend.

Thanks to my camera, it looks like my cake is about to 

spontaneously combust.  And it's not because there were 35 candles.

I would have killed Drew if he had done that.

That's me looking up at him and saying 'it's my birthday!'

He did such a good job!

Tres leches with strawberry innards!  

When they were cleaning up, I was all 'where's my cake?

Don't throw away my cake!'  It's at home right now, waiting for me.

I love cake.

It was so dark in the restaurant I'm surprised any of these came out.

But I'm especially glad this one did.  He's so cute.

Unfortunately, this is the best of the pictures I got that night because of course I was playing with the settings on my camera and over half of the shots came out blurry.  I was so annoyed but what are you gonna do.  But we had a great little crowd - my boss even came!  I really like my boss and I was so happy to see her there.  All told, we were a nice little group of about 12?  I think?  It was just right and it was such a great birthday!  We chatted and laughed all night, it was low-key and I really enjoyed myself.  I even stayed up until 11!

When we came home, I took a bunch of close-up pictures of my face, searching for signs of being 35.  I have a ton more gray hair, and there are some lines under my eyes, but for the most part I've held up pretty well!  I have no secrets - I don't drink elixirs, apply serums or ingest tonics, but I haven't fell off yet so at least there's that.  I have good genes and I've steered clear of the glaring no-nos like smoking and meth (it's a monster, that meth.)  I have no anti-aging advice and my plan for the next 35 years is to do more of what I've been doing, with some minor tweaks here and there.  Profound, right?

Doing my best Mona Lisa impression in the bathroom.

My hand and camera look huge but at least my brows look good.

Mona Lisa Smiles because she has a silly husband

It was a great birthday, Drew did a wonderful job and I'm super excited because my cousin and her best friend are coming tomorrow to stay for the weekend!  They will be our first guests in the new guest room/nursery so we have work to do tonight to get it ready.  I swear, as soon as we clean the room we buy something else and it gets junked up again.  This time it's the shelves - you remember the shelves in the living room right?  I got some more for the nursery and they are no easier to hang.  Poor Drew.  They are presently living on the bed with giant holes in the walls. Thank goodness I have the paint to repair the walls!

But you know, it's all good.  The sads have left me for now, I had a great birthday and I get to see my cousin and hang out with my husband this weekend.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.