Dirty Thirty

My thirtieth birthday started out earlier than I had imagined it would.  In fact, it began at precisely 3:48 am.  At first, I hoped that Allie had appeared at the foot of our bed to wish me a swift ‘happy birthday’ and that she would just walk herself on back to bed.  But this was not the day for birthday miracles.  Her bug bites were bothering her, and she wanted cream on them.  I tried to muster some sympathy from my hubby, the wonder-sleeper, but nothing doing.  He just rolled over and left me to my early morning wake up call.

It was a brief two hours later that I awoke to those four little words every parent dreads:  “I’m having an accident.”  (Yes, that was the correct tense.)  “Happy birthday,” Chris said.  Yes.  Happy birthday to me.

Fortunately, Chris made what I believe was a very wise decision and called work to tell them he wasn’t coming in.  I got to sleep in until 9 am.  Maybe it was a day for birthday miracles after all.

I had already planned on taking the girls to our playgroup’s end of summer pool party, but with Chris off work, I was able to leave Nicole with him.  Allie and I packed up all of our swimming gear and headed to Happy Trails Ranch.  (Seriously.  I think King Candy must have swept in and named everything here.)  Anyway, I spent the afternoon of my 30th poolside, relaxing in the sun and watching my big grown up girl swim around in the pool all by herself.  Well, all by herself but for her purple life jacket, her ducky float, and a couple of noodles.  Sheer bliss.

When Allison had finally swam herself out, we packed up and went home to a happy, rested baby and daddy.  But my birthday was not all fun and games.  Oddly, the laundry had not done itself in my absence, and I had to play the birthday card not once, but THREE times to get out of changing diapers.

With just an hour or so before we were planning to meet friends for dinner, Allison decided to take a nap.  I used to be thrilled every time she would sleep during the day, giving me a much needed break.  However, she is such a nightmare to put to bed on days she naps now that I’ll usually try anything to get her to stay awake.  We propped her up on the couch and yelled her name loudly, but it was all in vein.  Allie, spawn of wonder-sleeper, was out.

Thankfully, she wakes up slightly faster than her daddy, especially when birthday cake is involved.  We managed to make it to the restaurant just a few minutes late.  We ate at The Island Crab Bar and Grill, a little place down the road with mediocre food, a fantastic view, and decadent triple chocolate mouse cake, the latter of which was brought to me free of charge by a group of 10 or so waiters and waitresses.  They stomped their feet and clapped their hands so vigorously that poor little Nicole, who is afraid of dogs, cats, and even Allison’s fake kitty, Lulu, burst into tears.  She was truly terrified.  I would have picked her up out of her high chair to comfort her, but my cake was there and I wanted to be able to use both of my hands.  To my credit, I shared.

After we got home and Chris put the kids to bed, we made Amaretto Sours and watched the movie, “Limetless.”  A perfect ending to a perfect day.  So far, my 30s are going swimmingly.

The view from The Island