A birthday

My birthday. I've reached the age that when children ask, "How are old are you?" parents remind them that it's rude to ask people their age. Tonight, when I walked into the room filled with three-year-old choir members, the other teachers yelled, "Happy Birthday!" and I just went ahead and told the kids I was seven...plus some decades. They can't count that high...so I figured it was best not to confuse them.

I really enjoy birthdays. My mom (and dad) always went all out with creative antics for my childhood birthdays, and admittedly, it's a bit of a letdown each adult year when I realize there will be no iced cookies with my friends' names on them, refrigerator boxes converted into Alice in Wonderland's rabbit's hole or a full concessions stand for the movie I will watch with a group of friends in the den. But today hasn't been that bad....

I got to sleep in...though it probably isn't a great idea for me to drive through the kindergarten car line when I've only been awake for less than an hour. Sadly, the kitchen and bed didn't realize it was my special day...so I had to deal with them. Facebook proved to be a fun distraction with friends and family from across the country wishing me well. There was an unplanned trip to daycare around 9:30 since Jack had used up his extra outfits (yes, two...by 9:30) with potty (or lack there of) accidents. After sanitizing my hands...and arms...and clothes after the visit to daycare (where I sat and listened to books with Jack's friends who more than willingly shared their love, a.k.a. snot)...I used my birthday gift certificate from Sarah for a mani/pedi which was glorious, and then I met Jamie for a wonderful, just us, lunch.

The only time I went to work today was to meet my freshmen students at the stadium for a tour. I took Jack. I'm afraid Jack isn't yet overwhelmed with everything Bo Jackson so the Heisman room didn't impress him, and I couldn't convince him that he wouldn't see the football players. (I suspect he thinks they live there.) We (more important to me than Jack) did, however, get to see Aubie...and seeing Aubie just about makes up for the lack of personalized, iced cookies!

At home, (after taking Jack to a non-productive potty break) I was putting together a family favorite of homemade pizza (for Jamie and me) and fish sticks (for kids) when I heard Jack grunt. If you have gone through the adventure of potty training, you know what I'm talking about. "Jack (while spreading cheese on pizza) where are you?" "Over here." (in the den) "What are you doing?" "Going poopoo." "Maaaaannnnnnnn." So, just when I was riding the Aubie love high...reality struck.

Problem dealt with, I headed to church where a sweet three-year-old walked up to me with a prized Gigi's cupcake (mom is a sweet, wise friend who must have known that chocolate does wonders). Adult choir proved to be good for the soul, and finally home for bedtime...I enjoyed snuggling with my kids, eating that cupcake and just reviewing the day. And yes, I would still play in a box...any day.