Mom Smells Like A Monkey

Yesterday was my birthday; my 35th birthday, which means I can now round to 40! OMG am I really that old?

My day started out with poopy diapers, whining kids and a sleepless night. I would like to say it got better, but there was just more dirty diapers, fighting kids and mouths to be fed.

What happened in between was nothing notable, so I'll tell you about it. My husband forgot it was my birthday and when I dropped hints at him, he just thought it was an invitation for sex. My oldest sang the only birthday song I heard all day and in it I smelled like a monkey. My middle child complained frequently about being soooo tired even though he got a full night's sleep. And my youngest got a cold and sneezed giant green boogers all over my shirt.

I did receive many Happy Birthday wishes via FB. As nice as they were, they also added to the torture by reminding me that today should be my day off and that I should enjoy at least one margarita, both of which are a fantasy so far removed that I can hardly imagine them.

No presents, no special drawings for me to hang on the wall, no cake... Just another day being Mom. Being Mom, hun? I guess that's a pretty grand birthday present. I do love my kids and my husband beyond the moon and the stars. So even if there was no fanfare or shopping sprees, I couldn't ask for better presents...

At least not this year, but next year my family better not expect the sentimental crap to be sufficient - they already played that card!

The Margarita at the End of the Tunnel

Sometimes life actually goes your way: you win the Mrs. America Pageant, you don't get ID'ed at the grocery store and the hottie at the gas station pays your tab because he's never seen such a fine specimen.

Well, life has not been so sweet this week... In the last five days I have cleaned up more throw up and diarrhea than I thought was possible from five people. Some of which was my own, but most of which came from people who haven't perfected their aim.

So this morning, I raised the white flag and sought advice from our pediatrician. After evaluating our parched 11 month old he prescribed... wait for it... smoothies!

Now, that was a $70 visit worth it's weight in gold. The only thing that would have been better is if he prescribed margaritas, but I think they would pull his license for that one.

So thank you Dr. Labrum for putting a near-margarita at the end of this tunnel. Off to Jamba Juice we go. Parenting has never been so yummy!

Update: Have smoothies and they are working.

BTW: yes, the throw up did begin while we were on vacation.