There has been links going around the Internet of blogs who have just let it all hang out, so to speak. Being real, being authentic and being human. I adore their courage. There is really nothing more difficult than sharing your true self and thoughts, opening yourself up to your peers, strangers and maybe even no one. No one may identify with you, others will judge, some will challenge you just because. Being that vulnerable is just, A LOT on many levels. It seems so much safer to keep it to yourself, myself, but I don’t think that’s doing any good for anyone, mostly me.

Haven’t you heard from mothers before you that having babies can really do a number on you? Your vajajay? Ya, we’ll I’ve heard it. Yada yada, your business might not be as tight, you may need to do kegels the rest of your life, but, hey, that seemed to be the extend of the chatter I’ve ever heard or even chosen to. It’s kinda like listening about having a baby before you have one. Ya, ya, it’s going to be different, hard, but not until you walk in those newborn shoes do you ever realize what they truly meant by it.

Well, that’s me.

I’ve had three babies. All have made their entrance into this world through my hoo haw. (You like my names for it, yes?) I recently went to see another pediatrician and as she walked into the door and saw Peppa, she said, “There is no way that head is yours.” Then, she looked over at my other two kids and said, “And those aren’t either.”

Yes, I married a melon head.

7 3/4 hat size to be exact.

Giving birth to Rt, my first, was a trying experience. His head got stuck in little ‘ol me. He had to have a heart monitor inserted in his head, his heart rate dipped down into the 90′s for a good while and it was scary especially being my first time. I was prepped for a c-section just in case I couldn’t get him out. Fortunately, with the help of a suction, and sure determination, Rt was born “naturally.”

He must have started it all. Made way for his brothers to enter the world a tad bit easier. After having Hola, who came out in half the time, I really had no issues in recovery just like 3 years earlier with Rt. Besides a couple of stitches, all went back to normal, or what I knew was normal. (Who really knows what is normal? I’ve never spent too much time prior to kids viewing said woo haw, so I really can’t tell you if it still was in its original shape after babe #1 and #2.) I do know nobody told me things looked awry at my 6-week appointments.

Enter baby #3. My Peppa.

It seems when you ask your doctor to strip your membranes on a Friday because it’s the weekend he is on- call and you’d rather have your third kid as far apart from his oldest brother’s birthday 4 days later, things can bite you in the ass. First off, when my water broke at 11p.m. that night, (3rd membrane strip, 3rd onset of labor the same day) there was meconium in the water. It was scary and awful and it wasn’t something I was expecting, it being my third rodeo. I, for sure, thought we’d have to have an emergency c-section since Peppa could aspirate on the poop, but my doctor, who I called on the way in, said to just check-in at the hospital and no one from there on out seemed that concerned. (In the end, Peppa had no respiratory issues, thankfully.)

So, once we were in our room and such, my doctor, over the phone, gave the ok to the epidural even though I was only measuring 2cm. What a guy! (or so I thought…) I got the epidural, I was checked again at 2am and was at a 3. 20 minutes later I was checked again after complaining of pressure and was told I was a 10. In twenty minutes. For the next 20-25 minutes, we all waited for the doctor to arrive while Peppa was literally at my doorstep waiting to be born. (If I had not had the epidural at 2cm and waited till I was a 3, there would not have been time to give me one, and the nurse would have delivered me without the doctor there. We would not have waited.)

But, since I had the epidural, it wasn’t hurting anyone to wait and wait and wait and not cough, laugh or sneeze or the baby would come right out. So, we waited and Peppa was born at 2:45am.

****

-Cut to one week later, while changing out all of my recovery dressings in the bathroom, I noticed something up in there that looked like a balloon, or a small part of one. I called the doctor, since it was over a weekend (OF COURSE) and the rudest doctor in the practice told me it was normal. And that was it. Uh, okkkkk. So, I left it at that. It was 1 week post. I have no idea what WAS supposed to be down there at that time. So, I moved on.

-6 week check up. My doctor told me something about my bladder after I brought up seeing the same issue after some typical heavy lifting and a full bladder. Yada, yada yada, but nothing formal was said at that time and that was that. So, I moved on.

-9 month check-up this past Monday. We discussed what I found out myself as a prolapsed bladder. Basically, if your hoo haw is a tube and you tilt one end higher than the other, the top wall muscle can separate during delivery, like a hernia. If a head is hanging out in your tube for, oh, let’s say 20 minutes, the head can push the muscle to its extreme and it can give.

Mine gave.

(And this probably happened to me since this was my THIRD delivery and each of their heads were the size of an asteroid.)

It didn’t give as much as it could have, I believe, but enough to have the bladder, that sits nicely on top of this muscle under normal circumstances, to slip into the crack that has been left behind.

This I already knew. I found all this out by doing my own research.

What I didn’t know was the damage that was done did not stop there. (HOW SPECIAL. The gift that keeps on giving.)

There is also a bottom muscle wall as well. That is compromised as well. PLUS, after being checked out, while bearing down, my cervix/uterus also moves down a little. Now, of course I don’t walk around bearing down every minute of the day and honestly, I don’t notice any of this in my daily life. It’s not keeping me from anything, well, besides becoming an Olympic weightlifter. (The DEVASTATION.)

But, after just one examination from just my OBGYN, his suggestions are as follows, (if I even want to correct any of this.) Keep in mind, I don’t have to do anything, but I am not guaranteed that someday I might have to do something. He suggests fixing the bladder above, the lower wall too, plus the uterus. And by fixing the uterus, in his mind, would be to remove it. A HYSTERECTOMY, you guys.

I’m 38. No thank you.

I’ve done more research since Monday. I know there are ways to keep the uterus by using the muscles around to keep it in place. It all depends on the damage. I don’t know the extent of mine compared to those that received this laparoscopic surgery.

So, my plans are to digest this initial diagnosis, get a second opinion from the specialists in the urology department and wait it out until I can get a surgery that will keep my lady parts IN. I refuse to have mine removed unless it will be a detriment to my bladder or my pooper down the road.

Until then, my life remains as it is. It’s normal. It’s fine. I’m not sick. I’m healthy. I’m happy. I’m just trying to stay above it all because all I feel right now is broken.

But, I can say I have the best husband in the world. He said, and I quote, ” I love your vagina, honey, no matter what it looks like.” HA.

Ah, men.

e

Come hell or high water, I am going to write and finish this post today or I am going to go crazy. (I am finishing this 3 days later.)

I’ve been meaning to get on here, time and time again, but something/someone always comes first. (And yes, that might be a tv show during the one hour a day I get to myself.)

This three kid gig thing is rather time consuming. I was just thinking the other day how wound up I used to get when Rt would wake early, or need extra help in getting back to sleep during nap time. I would yell under my breath down the hall, “You have GOT to be fucking kidding me” or “what the fuck do you WANT?” Now, J did begin traveling for two days every week and I did spend a lot of time by myself, so I do believe there was probably some resentment going on there. I quit my job, I decided to stay home AND we moved to another city when Rt was 5 months old. Lots of change for this ‘ol brod.

Man, did that girl need a shot, a break, or a different mindset. And that is just what I have now. No, not a hot toddie, but my mind is on another level. A calmer one. I don’t always show it. Hell, I am SURE I yell more now than I did 6 years ago, but who in their right mind is going to yell at a 9 month old? (in their presence, I mean.) What’s there really to yell about? GET IN THE CAR? Nope. STOP TEASING YOUR BROTHER! No. It’s funny to look back and realize how nice and calm everything was, yet I was spinning inside over the littlest things.

Hey, I was a new kid. A new mom. I didn’t know. Now that I do, I feel like the baby things that might have dragged me down in the past, the sleep training, the food feeding, it doesn’t really phase me.

I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR IT TO. Thank God. Seriously. I am SO thrilled and so content to be as busy as I am. It makes me better. I feel better. I am more efficient. I use my down time with the kids better since I know it only comes in small increments. (most of the time. I can be an ass too.)

This is how I thrive. Even though I may complain, I thank my lucky stars on a daily basis and feel grateful I’ve got this pack to care for. (All four of them.)

Speaking of, let’s talk about Peppa.

Man, has this boy made the moves in the past month or so. We still only have 7 teeth. The same 7 we had since 7 months. Where is that 8th tooth? I have no idea. I keep looking for it, but putting my finger in there is SEVERELY DANGEROUS.

He began crawling a tad about a week before we left for the holidays to Oklahoma. So, at 8ish months, he started to crawl. And now, at 9-plus months, he’s at a decent speed. He follows his brothers everywhere. They are pure entertainment for him. What fun to watch all of them together.

He began to wave a couple of weeks ago while we were at the police station recovering my stolen wallet. He had said Da Da Da for a couple of months now and has now added Va Va Va to the mix. It sounds like MA MA, but I know it’s not.

Since deswaddling him back in his 7th month, we hit some rocky roads regarding sleep. I have never had this kid before, but once he wakes in the night, which was usually once, he was wide awake. What the hell do you do with a wide-awake baby, a husband who is out of town all of the time, then have to care for all three kids day in and day out. Well, you go back to feeding him anytime after 3am in hopes to help get the baby to pass out again. Then, we traveled, blah, blah, blah.

I won’t go into detail, but after some persistent assistance in the sleep department a couple of nights, like we did with the other two, I am getting some solid sleep. It feels great. It’s so much easier to go into the night with a plan. Ahhhh.

So, as of the other day, Peppa has pulled to stand. I knew putting legs back under his activity table would help progress this, and yes I feel that if I never give him the opportunity, he will never do so. I CAN CONTROL THIS. You see, he is my last baby. And he needs to stay this way as long as possible.

Also, his older brother took his first steps at 9 1/2 months and that would be next week for Peppa. So, anything after that means I will not get another “BUSY” kid. Hey, busy kids are truly the best, but I believe each family should only get one. That way, everyone doesn’t lose their minds in the process.

Peppa is a happy, smiley baby. He likes to make himself know with the highest pitched squeal known to man. I think he just wants to be heard among the chaos, but MY GOD. Woah. He has finally mastered his pincer grasp and has gone to town on every variety of Puff I’ve put on his tray. He stares at his hands all the time. He watches his thumbs move back and forth and  can’t get over the fact they are connected to his body.

He’s a keeper. Can’t imagine this life without him.

These are the pics I’ll have to use for Peppa’s wall photos. Otherwise, he’ll be 3 before he gets any representation on the brother wall!

2 months

3 1/2 months

6 months

(What a difference the first few months makes!)

(I think I’ll be swapping out maybe the first photo, but I don’t know what others I have from that time, so it will have to do!)

Here’s the brother wall:

Rt

Hola

Can’t wait to see them all together.

e

(Written on the flight home. You know, the only time I’ve had a moment to myself since taking off from the Austin airport.)

******

Headed home and wondering where I’ve been the past 72 hours? That was a whirlwind hell of a good time filled with seeing old friends, meeting new ones and trying to cram in a years worth of friendship, suck the nectar out of a new town, and nurse a slight hangover all at the same time. There were tacos everywhere I turned, hookers who tried to make our hotel their home, and too many talks of vibrators and wishes of all of us living closer together. (Not in the same breath, mind you.)

I might have been tagged as the gal who got a nipple ring for a short 3 months when she was 21 for the discounted price of $20. (Hell, who could pass up a bargain like that? Clearly, I couldn’t) That and the gal who’s got a lot of penis to care for back home. Hell, someone’s got to whip the male race into shape, right?

I spent a good chunk of time having hilarious moments with quite a few of you.

Miss Narmalie is an awesome chica who was lovely enough to let me stay in her tree house the first night I was there. It was truly an oasis. One that I will think of fondly when I am drowning in a pool full of little people. I am saddened I did not get to meet HER little people. They are such dolls from what I hear!!

Regan was also a hero of mine as well. Besides being a cool chic, she buys bottles of champagne and even comes and picks you up and takes you places! Her daughter, sweet Pippa can go unnoticed in a car for about 15 minutes. A doll and laid back as all get out.

Jonniker and I had a doozy of a time trying to get her car out of the back parking lot at brunch on Friday. Let’s just say she “nuzzled” the restaurant a smudge with her bumper. I think the next time we both find each other in that situation, we’ll back that car out BUTT first. What a hoot.

(Every time I try to link Regan and Jonna’s names, it makes them  bigger. I have no idea why this happens or how to fix it?!? Don’t even get me started on the link color. YOU CAN’T READ IT. I’ll have to fix later…This will teach me to not write out of wordpress editor EVER AGAIN.)

Once Friday night came about, I was able to meet and hang with almost the entire 49 people who attended, including my roommate Andyouknow! (What a doll. Thanks for being such a great roomy!! Also, if you are ever fortunate enough to get to hang with her while she’s pumping, please tell me if you also hear it say “loophole, loophole, loophole.”)

Of course there was no way to get to spend time with everyone I wanted to, (BOO)  but I felt I at least met almost everyone?! And for all the gals I did meet, what fun it was spending some time getting to know you better, and if vibrators did come up in conversation, I am truly sorry! (Ericahuff)

From there, I spent a good chunk of time hanging with the other Style Lush writers, JustExpressive, ChristinaRTS and my other roomie HomeSweetSarah. We made our way to and from the main house, Gypsy Picnic, Congress street, the Saturday night dinner and back to the main house. I can honestly say it was a riot tooling around with these fine women. Keeping it real was pretty much all we did and it was thoroughly enjoyable. Thank you sweet girls!!

It was also great getting to finally meet my Oklahoma sisters, Kate_Welsh and MrsDAngelo! Thank the heavens above we were not sitting around watching that HORRID game Saturday night. BOOMER SOONER!!

Want to make a shout out to all the lovely gals at the main house. You are FANTABULOUS hosts and truly did such a great job making everyone feel warm and fuzzy. THANK YOU.

I took all of 5 pictures from my Iphone. If you want to see them, along with tons of others from the rest of the gals, head on over to our flickr pool!

All in all, it was a weekend to remember. I came away exhausted, awfully content, inspired to continue these relationships and looking forward to making new ones next year!

(I wrote this en route to the Blathering. I believe our plane was somewhere over New Mexico. The guy next to me even starting reading this since he recognized the word “penis” and had to find out more. Riveting, I tell you!)

1. I do not bring shampoo and conditioner on any trip. It takes up way too much room and I don’t have the patience to try to pour them into those pesky bottles. It almost put me under trying to do it for my hospital bag. Either I’m not gone long enough to need another hair wash or I buy some drug store kind and leave it behind.

2. I like to talk. I took a flight one time and was put in the middle seat on the last row. I thought I would either die a slow death being crammed in between two people for 3 hours, or I could strike up a conversation with one. While exiting the plane the man said, “If I ever happen to fly the friendly skies again with you, I’ll be happy to tell you my life story.” Hey, it got me through a rather tight-fit situation. A little gabbing was necessary.

3. I have a strange knack for remembering the oddest things. When I talk to you I might bring up something you wrote about yourself a year ago. I can probably remember where on my page your tweet was when I read it. However, I cannot remember to pick my kid up from school on early days.

4. I also never bring a hairdryer, flat iron or curling iron while traveling. I tend to ask to borrow each item from whomever I am staying with. I think I’ve lived around too many men for too long. Less is more and I can’t justify how much room those puppies take up in my bag. However, on this trip, I did pack the flat/curling iron. My bag did weigh 43 lbs too. (Also, the last time I did take my hair tools with me I left them in the bathroom. I also did not notice I left them behind for TWO MONTHS. Clearly I was terribly focused on my hair this summer.

5. I like to say “It’s just me and the penis” anytime anyone calls out I have three boys. It doesn’t matter who it is. I have no shame. My mother-in-law might have found it humorous. Not sure. The jury is still out.

6. I filled out my Blathering Questionnaire two days ago. As in the last possible moment to do so. (Sorry A’Dell.) I thought it would take me oodles of focused time to be comical and endearing. It didn’t take me that long at all, but I also can’t tell you if I was funny or not. Oh well. I got it done, right? That also brings us to this post. I am writing it on the plane a mere 1 1/2 hours from landing in Austin. I plan to publish this at some point before the get-together tomorrow. Talk about last minute.

7. I haven’t lived in Oklahoma for almost 13 years, but I still say I am from there. I am not sure I can ever say I am from California. I think I’d be lying if I did so.

8. My ancestors were in the largest land run of Oklahoma in 1893. A girl had to sit on her land while her dad went into “town” to look for work. Of course, all I can think of when I imagine this is Nicole Kidman and Tom staking their land. Not the best mental picture…

9. Since I can actually drink this year, you may find that I still sound like I am from these parts. We’ll see, shall we?

10. I barely wear makeup. I will have makeup on this entire weekend because I GET TO, but I have no time to put it on normally. I am sure I probably DO need to wear it, but no one has pulled me aside just yet. However, I don’t think I can trust my husband to tell me anything important like that. I told him I had my upper lip threaded for the first time the other day, thinking I might have seen a shadow where a shadow should not be. (!!!) What did he say? “Ya, I thought I saw something a couple of times while we were on the couch.” WELL, WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING? Good GOD. I have NO problem sharing my “you might want to do something about that” to him.

11. I do not shave my legs often. (I did this morning. no worries.)

12. I still sleep with a pillow on my head. I brought one with me in my suitcase. I have been doing this for 7 years since I was pregnant with my first baby and could not stand hearing my husband breathe in the middle of the night after returning to bed from a bathroom visit. I mean, COME ON. The breathing. the LOUD breathing. AGH.

13. I like meeting new people. I love events like this. I’m a social girl. I can’t wait to FREAKING LAND THIS PLANE. Let’s GO already.

So, Peppa turned 6 months almost two weeks ago.

Funny how that happens.

He had his appointment on Friday and weighed in at 19 lbs, 11 1/2 oz. 28 1/4 inches long and has the head/body proportion size that resembles a light bulb. 84%, 94%, 98%.

He can roll front to back, back to front, would love to sit up if he only could and takes a crapper every time he’s in his beloved exersaucer.  I just borrowed a free-standing jumperoo from a lovely gal and can’t wait to see him jump till the cows come home.

He is now on three meals a day since yesterday. In order to get him off of 36 oz of formula a day/6 bottles, we had to get those three meals in. We had been on two since we started feeding him at 5 months, but needed more to pull back on the liquid diet.

We are not feeding him till he wakes around 5am, so this part of the sleep training is tedious, but doable. Still are not able to deswaddle him yet, but that is the next step. We do have it looser than before, so that’s a start.

This kid is just as loud as his brother Hola. I guess you have to in order to be heard in this camp. Sometimes when he concentrates on a toy, he makes these hilarious noises that make him sound like he’s in a really bad porno. Can’t NOT think about it once the idea gets into your head. Trust me, I’ve tried.

He’s a sweet, sweet boy who loves to grab on to mommy’s hair and never let go. He adores all of the attention he gets. The kisses, the spins in the exersaucers, the mouth/gas noises his oldest brother makes, all of it. He likes to be apart of the gang.

He’s perfect and everything I never knew I needed.

We still nap in the swing because I just can’t take a short 45 nap right now. Speaking of, we are having one of those right now! Bonus. I have to wake him during his morning nap to get to the gym, but when I have PLENTY of time in the afternoon, I get a short stint. And forget about getting him back to sleep myself. He has better luck putting himself back to sleep than having me go in there. We’ll see how this goes.

Moving on.

What else. He’s eaten almost every basic vegetable and fruit out there. I even smashed my own banana this morning and mixed it with oatmeal cereal for breakfast. Needing to branch out a bit before some of these fruits head out of season. Anyone know anything about giving a 6 month old kiwi?

Anywho, I took some 6 month shots of Peppa last week and want to use one on our wall, along with the 3 shots we have up for the other two boys as babies. So, basically, it needs to be a good shot. Here’s what I got. Tell me, honestly, can I do better? I can do a reshoot. (ha.) J thinks I can. SURE. I can pencil that in between the bon bon eating and the soap watching.

But seriously, I do want it to be GOOD good. Each boy has a 2 month, 3 month and a 5 or 6 month shot up on the wall. This is the last one I need. Thoughts?

He is kinda laid-back and chiny no-neck, but if I had him sitting up any further, all I’d get is 46 photos of the top of his head while he searches for something on the ground to pickup.

Tomorrow I will receive a progress report for Rt. It will show how he has been doing in school since beginning in August. (We will receive an actual report card in November.)

I just got an email from Rt’s teacher about the matter.

It reads,

“I want you to know and be proud that I am not giving Rt a progress report for behavior. I am letting you know that things could change. . .and the report card would show that, but as of now, he is doing so much better. ”

HAPPY DANCE.

Just to catch you up from last week, Rt has been on a number system. He was sent home everyday with a number based on his behavior at school. 10 being awesome, 1, in the shitter. The teacher and I agreed to this once things started going south with him about 2 1/2 weeks ago.

Last Friday I wrote his teacher an email asking her to remove him from the number system. It was stressing me out along with giving Rt anxiety everyday after school. Sad Panda.

Since then, things have seemed to improve. This email validates that.

I am so pleased and SO relieved.

e

Do I really look like this? I mean, I know I do, but the angle or something is not how I look at myself in the mirror, I guess. If you are a taller person looking at me from an angle, then yes, this is what I look like.

It’ll have to do. I’m not making another attempt at this damn thing.

Accent? Or no?

e

p.s. It was glary out there. So, that’s why the squinting is going on, I believe. Or hope, rather. Otherwise, I need glasses.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks here at the Mel household. Rt has had some issues at school, J was gone 5 out of 7 days in a row and Peppa was having trouble popping his first and second tooth, mostly in the middle of the night. Wheee! Luckily, J has returned and Peppa has improved IMMENSELY in the sleep department.

The part that really has thrown me for a loop is Rt. The other issues are to be expected. (J travels. It’s part of the deal. There’s an ending usually followed with some great help cleaning the house and/or putting all the kids to bed. He’s also really good at opening a beer.) And teething is teething. Blah.

Back to Rt. He has just started 1st grade. He’s now at school 6 1/2 hours a day as opposed to just 3 hours from Kindergarten. Last year, to be honest, he was such the golden child at school. You can earn these “super blues” for great behavior and they were really hard to earn. Some kids only came home with a few all year. Rt? He came home with FIFTEEN.

Jump to this year? We’ve had trouble on the playground. We hang from JUST our feet on the monkey bars. We have been warned, then decide to do it again and have gotten written up twice for doing so. (He can fall easily and break his neck. I get the concern.) He spit on a girl in his class at the monkey bars. I have no idea on this one. Um, SO not like him. He pushed his favorite boy/friend while standing in line outside. Context behind it? I have no idea. In the classroom he’s been better and only getting in real trouble once for being apart of “I hit you in the upper chest with the tip of my pencil and then you do it back to me.” Who started it and why? Not sure. But, HELLO. PENCIL IN THE CHEST. WTF were you thinking??

There were some other issues in the boys’ bathroom of yelling and goofing off with some other boys during class and being apart of a kid taking Rt’s arms and punching another boy in the chest. WTH? I have no idea.

What do I think about all of this? It sucks.

It sucks that I don’t know the context behind all of this. It sucks that I think they are being too hard on my kid. Hello, he’s SIX. Take his “what classifies as trouble” circle and widen it a bit. Otherwise, he’ll be getting into “trouble” the rest of the year.

What also really sucked was last Friday’s lack of respect for his teacher and even the principal. He shut down after he got in trouble and didn’t want to talk to them and admit he did anything wrong. He didn’t want to get into trouble. AGAIN.

He spent most of the entire weekend in his room because of it. J was out of town. (AWESOME) I put him in there for his disrespect and his attitude towards authority. WHERE DID THIS COME FROM? He doesn’t get away with that at home. If anything, he gets in trouble real quick if he pulls attitude. J and I don’t stand for it.

So, where is this coming from?

The longer hours? Hard to be good for that long? Trying to impress his “friends?” The need to be cool? Rt does care so much if someone likes him and whether they are influential in his choices, I’ll never know, but something is going on and I’m trying to get to the bottom of it. Stat. He’s a smart boy. Really smart. I just don’t know why he’s making these choices.

Any suggestions, recommendations? I NEED HALP. I’m so sad for my little boy who’s trying to find his way in 1st grade and not doing a very good job of it. The stress and anxiety is not working for me.

e

UPDATE: Not that this will cure all issues here, but Rt came home with a coupon reward to a restaurant. He was good enough for the teacher to submit his name with all of the others who did well this week/day? to a one kid per class lottery through the office. Basically his name was called over the PA and was rewarded for his behavior. Take THAT Friday!

Wow, so a whole month has passed. How on earth did that happen?

Oh, I know.

• School started.
• I have three kids who need to get dressed and make their way out in the world on a daily basis.
• I actually do write elsewhere twice a week.
• And my new found time-suckage, Words With Friends. (The words I’ve learned using a Q, X and J, man.)

So, today’s my birthday. Wheeeee. It’s hard to feel “special” when you get to feed a baby at 5:50am. Luckily, I got to sleep in till 7:40am. Rt, Hola and J came in to wake me. It truly is so fun being at the bottom of a dog pile of sorts. Where’s my breakfast in bed? Flowers? Hot chocolate? What do you mean you need to get in the shower, the kids are not fed yet and Rt’s lunch needs to be made just like every other day of the week?

Where’s MAH SPECIAL DAY???

Oh well. I’m over it. I get BR’s ice cream cake later today and I don’t have to pick it up. SCORE.

J and I did go out for my birthday on Sunday night. We hit my favorite kind of restaurant, a Japanese Steakhouse! I’ve been celebrating my big day at hibachi-type places since I can remember. I even had my 4th grade birthday party at one. One word: Delicious.

We sat next to some lovely folks who were celebrating their Sunday night by getting loaded with blue rum fish bowls. Let’s just say they were “entertaining.” And then, they all got to sing Happy Birthday to me at the end of the meal. Wish I had THAT on record!

Gotta run. Peppa wants to spent time with me instead of sleep.

SPECIAL, I TELL YA.

e