It’s My Birthday And I’ll Cry If I Want To


I know the song mentions a party and some crying but there is no party here. Not right now, anyway. I thought it might be fun to document my day as things unfolded.

I heard my husbands alarm go off at 6 a.m. as he was waking up for a 24 hour work shift and I managed to fall back asleep until 6:32 a.m. when Sprout (who is in a toddler bed now) came out of his room and so we start our day.

Super cold today but sunny. The expected high is 29 with a supersized portion of wind.

By 7:30 a.m all the kids are awake and sitting at the table for breakfast. Everyone got fed and I clean up, make lunch for Mr. A and now it’s my turn to eat. As I sit down with food and coffee, Mr. A needs help with his cursive so we write together and somehow I spill my entire, FULL cup of coffee on the floor. I held back tears.

9:00 a.m. hits and the two littles are asking for screen time  which is reserved for early evening but today I allow it early on. “Did you say we can play the Wii, Mom?” they ask again in disbelief. Yes, kids, yes you can.

I clean up the kitchen, the stove and the hall closet, and decide to tackle the mound of laundry that’s patiently waiting for me.

I should feel thankful for all I have and yet frustration keeps resurfacing and then guilt. The older kids are at school and I chug along trying to prepare everything for a little outing which I was invited to. I debated if I should tell the girls it’s my birthday but I did. And I’m glad.

Glad that my sister is watching my kids, glad that my husband has a job, glad that someone else is making my dinner tonight, glad for adult conversation, glad to have people in my life to share things with. And just like that things shift around. All I needed was a little celebration.


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