I turned thirty-two today. Here's the breakdown:
Number of hours my mother labored before I was born: "Gosh, sweetheart, I don't know. A lot."
Number of hours of sleep I got last night: 6 (no one's fault but my own. and that stupid feed reader)
Number of waffles (blueberry!) I ate for breakfast: 2
Number of minutes past my projected time to leave the house for a morning of shopping with the girls: 90
Number of stores I had planned to hit to shop for clothes (for me ONLY): 3
Number of stores we actually shopped: 1
Number of outfits I tried on that I myself had selected: 8
Number of outfits I tried on because Dacey selected them for me: 2
Number of diaper disasters that occurred in dressing room (and by disaster I mean the smell was so bad I thought my face would melt off and I am pretty sure the store clerks were herding people to the other side of the store and were maybe about to call Disaster Preparedness): 1
Number of times Dacey asked if we were going to the mall playground now (now? How 'bout now? Are we done yet? Are you almost done? Now?): Gosh, sweethearts, I don't know. A lot.
Number of times I nearly fainted at how much two slices of pizza and two sodas will cost a mama at the mall food court these days ($11.87?! For REAL?!): 1
High temperature for today: 98
Normal high temperature of mid-June: 88
Temperature in my car in early afternoon when we left the mall: One Gazillion
Number of minutes AJ napped on the drive home during what would normally be her afternoon nap: 0
Number of cakes Dacey originally had in mind for us to make to celebrate my birthday: 4
Number of minutes it takes one preschooler to grate one carrot: 17
Number of minutes it takes one mama to grate the remaining carrots required to equal the three cups necessary for carrot cake: 3
Number of carrot cakes with red (pink) icing I've seen in foodie magazines and/or on TV: 0 (And yet, she insisted. Sometimes you gotta go with it.)
Number of bites the preschooler who picked out carrot cake actually took of the completed carrot cake: 3 ("but mama, I don't LIKE carrot cake!")
Number of Happy Birthday! messages on my Facebook wall: Too many to count. A lot. Way, way more than I expected or deserved.
Number of birthday cards that arrived in the mail today: 4 (number with a little play money for the mama? 2!)
Number of handmade birthday cards I received: 1
Number of i-tunes gifts that arrived in my email inbox today: 1 (thank you again, sweet friend!)
Number of packages that arrived with a handmade gift all the way from far California: 1
How about a peek:
Number of calories consumed in birthday dinner from our favorite place down the street: Don't ask. It's obscene. (But in my defense, they fix up hand-battered onion rings so tender and delectable that I've seen grown men get a little teary upon tasting. Hurt yourself good.)
Number of loads of laundry done today: 0
Number of rooms that got vacuumed: 0
Number of rounds of dishes done: 3 (I just really can't let that stuff stack up. No dishwasher and all.)
Number of times AJ tinkled in the potty: 1 (yippee!)
Hours of quiet conversation, leisurely reading, and general post-babies-bedtime luxury: 3 (and counting)
Overall, sweet friends, I feel so utterly spoiled and entirely well-celebrated as the clock ticks down on "my" day. This heart is full of happy and this day will go down in the books as
