My birthday was Monday but we celebrated it on Sunday because seriously, we already don't have enough time in the evenings.
It ended up being a good call because right about when I finished the lasagna, Tad spiked a 101-degree temp. We gave him some ibuprofen and ate cake and then turned in early. He ran that fever for the entire 24 hours of my birthday; it went away sometime between about midnight and 6 a.m. on the 18th.
Birthdays aren't quite the same when you're a mom, are they?
a. Lasagna from the 1980 Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. Everybody loved this; even Tad managed to down half a piece once his ibuprofen kicked in.
b. This cake. As you can see, I was lazy and just did two 9-inch layers. It was still a really excellent cake.
c. Oh, and here's Tad's cake. It was yellow cake with a cherry filling (both from BH&G) leftover frosting from my cake, and assorted decorations. I am still miffed that the white frosting came out runny. You'd be amazed at how fiddly basic butter frosting is.
|Not a lie|
|"You want me to do WHAT with the fire?"|
|Turns out he doesn't like cherries. He yanked it off |
and threw it away before consenting to eat the cake.
I got Serenity and some cooking utensils (a wooden rolling pin to replace the metal one I got last year--did you know metal rolling pins eventually get full of rusty old water?--a candy thermometer, some new paring knives, that sort of thing) and also this card from my little sister:
Tad was feeling better by Thursday (his birthday) but hit his overtired cranky wall around 6 p.m., so we skipped cake and presents in favor of more going to bed early.
The next day we had cake for breakfast, present-opening after morning nap, and sherbet for afternoon snack. Then in the evening we Skyped with Tad's godfather. Today we are probably going to install his new carseat. We'll see.
|Grandma and Grandpa D got him a convertible. ;)|
|New PJs, also from Grandma and Grandpa D.|
|Cards from assorted relatives.|
|Balls and a book from my siblings.|
|Wooden blocks from his godfather.|
I actually bought the Grandma/Grandpa D. presents myself using a gift card they gave me. I am saving the rest of the gift card for Christmas, partly because our gift budget is kind of nonexistent this year and I want him to have some stuff under the tree (he doesn't know the difference, but it matters to me) and partly because I don't want to bring any more STUFF into this apartment if I'm just going to have to move it all in a week.
Oh, yeah, we are supposed to get the keys to our new place on Monday. Finally. I am not holding out a lot of optimism.
On Tuesday night, Tad was refusing to fall asleep and at about 11 p.m. I told Scott that no matter how little we slept we'd still get more rest than we did last year. He agreed. I added, "And I'll probably be a little more comfortable."
Scott definitely agreed with that one, and then we ended up having a conversation about how I would totally do labor again because now I've basically forgotten that it was actually painful and just remember that I got a baby at the end of it. Scott is deeply skeptical of this amnesia; apparently he still distinctly remembers how painful labor was and he wasn't even experiencing it!
(I mean, if you ask me whether labor is painful I'll tell you that around 7cm you start to suspect that Stephanie Meyer is right and your spine is going to snap in half and you're going to die. But that cerebral knowledge somehow doesn't affect my feelings about doing it again someday.)
On the selective amnesia note, I expected yesterday to be a lot harder emotionally than it was. I mean, Thursday I spent pretty much the whole day in a state of, "Oh, this time last year we were doing this." November 21 last year was a pretty awful day in lots of ways and I didn't really want to relive it.
But then I didn't. I don't even know why. Somehow in the last year the good memories got clearer and the bad ones fuzzier. So when I look back to a year ago today, the thing I remember is this:
|All dressed up and ready to go home|
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