Lightning just struck my brain

It’s very rare to have to tell someone my age these days. It’s not like I’m dating ya know, unless you consider marriage one big long date but that guy already knows how old I am so . . . I digress. Usually nowadays if someone needs to know how old I am they just ask for my birth date and let the computer do the math. So yes I admit that for the majority of my thirty-first year I forgot how old I was since I never actually said it, out loud. It wasn’t until I was in the hospital recently after the birth of my daughter that I was reminded of the sum of all my years. There it was on a piece of paperwork, clear as snot “Mother’s Age: 31” Whaaaat? No I’m not. Wait, am I? Oh my gosh I am cause there was that birthday I celebrated a year after I turned thirty. But that means now I’m almost 32. Wait. What? Horribly confusing day obviously.

Well, here’s to you thirty-two. Sure snuck on me you saucy little minx. Maybe I’ll try to say my age out loud more this year so as to avoid such a shock to the system. I guess I could blame my blur of a thirty-first year on pregnancy but I’m not the kind of person to milk pregnancy for all it’s worth. Please.

Speaking of milk, I wrote the following list of Things I Want For My Birthday before the mastitis struck me down while I had three kids to tend to. Blurry photo as proof!
So (Husband) please double the amounts of everything requested. Bijous.

 Ahem. On this the dawn of my thirty-second year I hereby request the following: 
-Two hours of solitary uninterrupted sleep, preferably between the hours of  8 and 10 AM      
   --“Solitary” meaning no one else can inhabit the bed, including the Husband and the baby  
   --All other children must be kept out of earshot* 
-One large cheesecake 
-Fifteen minutes of no one talking to me after I wake up 
-A large plate of steak and shrimp

 That’s it! That’s all I want! Forget diamonds and pearls, just food and sleep puuuh-leeease!**
*I’m not totally for sure what this word means but it sounded right in context. Basically I don’t want to hear a peep from them oh those lovely little boys I love them I love them I love them I just don’t want to hear them, for a bit.
** I guess you could throw in some massaman curry while your at it and some diamonds and some pearls. Whatevs.


The Atomic Mom said...

I'm coiming up on 40 this year. Not sure how I feel about that right now. And congratulations on your new baby! I'm happy for you. :)

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