The next birthday was mine! I turned 42 on Aug. 2, which is also my 2nd blogaversary (term coined by Chris at Notes from the Trenches).
All I wanted for my birthday is another baby, and it has been several months of trying with no results, which is unusual for us. I had really wanted to be pregnant by my 42nd birthday, and I am not, so I woke up feeling sort of sad and old (and fat, for some reason I've gained about 5 lbs. this summer!)
The rest of my day went something like this. I woke up to a slightly messy house, so spent some time doing dishes, putting cushions back on couch, and picking up dh's clothes off the floor. Annoyed, I asked 6yo, who was the only on up, to wake her siblings up since I shouldn't have to do all the picking up on my bday. She returned shortly saying they refused to get up. More annoyed! About 30 minutes later they did get up and were then very helpful. I made myself a last minute appointment for a pedicure, and rushed off to do that and have lunch with a close friend.
I've never had a pedicure and my feet were horny toads, literally black in areas with very rough dead skin and tons of calluses. Now they are pink and soft and smooth!
I hate hot weather and it was about 95 and REALLY humid here. When I got to the restaurant I discovered that dh had had flowers delivered there for me! I ordered lunch, but when the waitress brought it, it was not what I ordered. I described what I'd ordered, which was the special appetizer, and that's what I said I wanted and pointed to it on the specials menu, but did not name it. It turned out that the hostess had missed one of last weeks specials menus when she changed them over, so the one I was given described last week's specials. I was brought this week's special appetizer. She suggested something else and it was prepared amazingly quickly. It was very tasty, although not exactly what I'd wanted.
After lunch I drove my friend back to her office, and as she got out of the car I realized that I'd left the flowers at the restaurant. I was totally out of gas, so I called the restaurant and they said they had the flowers set aside for me. I thought I felt the car chug a little as I raced to the nearest (expensive) gas station in the downtown shopping district. I was totally drenched with sweat by the time I finished pumping gas. I returned to the restaurant to retrieve the flowers, getting even more sweaty as I walked back to the car. I'd used the last of my cash paying to get out of the parking lot the first time, and was relieved that they would accept Canadian change since that was all I had!
My parents were waiting at my house, which was spotlessly clean (picked up by the kids) and the kids were all happy, cared for by their older siblings, and had all worked together to make me a beautiful banner. My parents had brought a large cheesecake and 42 candles, which I was able to blow out all at once! We visited for about an hour, and after they left I took a long nap.
Feeling refreshed, I did some Pilates exercises while dh, who had just returned home from work, bearing deli meats and cheeses and fresh french bread for dinner, took a short nap. Then he went to pick up D. from football conditioning while the rest of us set out the food and the table. We made our sandwiches, intending to wait for them to start eating, but they didn't return for a long time. My daughter J., concerned that there was no cake, had called dh on the sly and told him to stop at the store and get some dessert. He brought home 2 frozen pies and was astonished that they required 1 hour to bake! Mind you, this man has a PhD! We all got a laugh out of that, and decided to make mango and peach milkshakes instead. My oldest child held one lit candle up for me to blow out while they sang to me.
After dessert I received some nice gifts. Dh got me pearl earrings and the promise of shopping for a treadmill. The girls gave me cash and promised to "take me shopping." The boys gave me a sports watch that is also a heart rate monitor for exercising.
By this time it was quite late so we all went to bed.
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