Since I know you have all been waiting in suspense, F-5ing my blog to see what happened on my birthday, I thought I would post it early, so we can all commence with the laundry, or whatever else is waiting.
I started out the day actually the night before.
My dad works a graveyard shift, and texted me "Happy Birthday" and a :) for good measure.
At 12:48 am.
Thanks Dad!
The true miracle there, is the fact that my Dad can even text...let alone text me a friggin' smiley face made out of punctuation.
Who knew?
Old dog/New Tricks, and all that.
And you need to know that my Dad has fingers that resemble polish sausages.
You have seen phone key-pads, right?
I am not sure how texting is possible for him, unless he has a pocket-fairy.
I got up and got the kids off to school.
(which still brings me great pleasure)
And then I went to the gym.
Yes I did.
I had a lot of plans for the day, and a full 100 percent of those plans involved food.
I went to a new Yoga class.
At one point the teacher wanted to "challenge" the advanced students.
We were shown "The Crane."
Then the teacher started showing us how we could dumb it down, and modify it.
I am not an advanced student.
I am not even that good at Yoga.
I went directly into "Child's Pose."
This is the Yoga version of curling up into a fetal position--you basically just give up, and hide your face.
I chose well, Internets.
Cause the guy next to me?
He gave it a real go with "The Crane" and face-planted right onto the hardwood floor.
He missed his whole mat and everything.
Not like that flimsy, rubbery piece of crap would have helped his poor beak, when all 220 pounds of him came tumbling down on it.
And that, my friends, is when I knew that the universe was starting my birthday par-tay.
Here is the condensed version:
Fine Lunch Dinery at Chick-fil-a.
I don't mess around on my birthday.
I know what I like.
I get what I like.
I wore the sash.
Sadly, it did not glean me any swag, but you know what?
It made me happy.
When you are ballsy slash stupid enough to wear a satin sash that says "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" you have to look like you are having! fun!
Random people would wish me well, and I would reply to them "Have fun on my day."
After lunch, we did a little shopping.
We hit Hobby Lobby.
Sam fist-bumped a four year old boy in the store, because they were literally the only males in that place.
Only half the store was on sale this week.
What is with that place?
"Home Decor 50% off!"
Fine print: only ceramic, resin, single hole wall hanging, made in India, festooned with feathers, formerly not on sale, or patterned after tacky hotel decor.
I don't get that place.
I have to go back next week, when the other half of the store is on sale to get the other thing I wanted.
Then we went and saw "The Help."
Internets, I read that book.
I did not cry.
But I guess my heart is a cold and dead thing without a moody soundtrack.
Sam and I both came out of the theater with headaches from trying really hard not to hold onto each other and sob.
I needed tissues.
I snotted all over my sash.
I need to back-track a bit, and let you know that prior to shutting my phone down in the theater, I texted my older kids and told them to clean the house while I was gone.
I knew they wouldn't.
They did.
I was already a little on the edge from holding my emotions in check at the theater...
Nothing says "I love you" to a mother like fresh vacuum tracks.
They helped me make my birthday treat.
My father in law brought me fresh raspberries yesterday, and I hoarded them for this:
Raspberry Trifle Cake
1 (9 oz.) Angel Food Cake (tear into bite-sized pieces and set aside)
Filling:
2 (8 oz.) cream cheese, softened
2 c. powdered sugar
Mix smooth, then add:
1 c. sour cream
1 t. vanilla
1/2 t. almond extract
Mix well, then fold into mixture:
2 c. cool whip (thawed)
Fold cake pieces into filling mixture, gently. Put mixture into a 9x13 pan. Add fresh raspberries to cover.
Prepare:
1 package of Raspberry Danish Dessert (as per package directions)
Pour over the top of the cake, and refrigerate until firm.
I made mine in layers in a trifle bowl.
The night is still young.
Sam told me he still has a present for me.
I have the sneaking suspicion it is in his pants.
(MONEY, you freaking pervs.)
All-in-all, not a bad day.
I started out the day actually the night before.
My dad works a graveyard shift, and texted me "Happy Birthday" and a :) for good measure.
At 12:48 am.
Thanks Dad!
The true miracle there, is the fact that my Dad can even text...let alone text me a friggin' smiley face made out of punctuation.
Who knew?
Old dog/New Tricks, and all that.
And you need to know that my Dad has fingers that resemble polish sausages.
You have seen phone key-pads, right?
I am not sure how texting is possible for him, unless he has a pocket-fairy.
I got up and got the kids off to school.
(which still brings me great pleasure)
And then I went to the gym.
Yes I did.
I had a lot of plans for the day, and a full 100 percent of those plans involved food.
I went to a new Yoga class.
At one point the teacher wanted to "challenge" the advanced students.
We were shown "The Crane."
I am not an advanced student.
I am not even that good at Yoga.
I went directly into "Child's Pose."
This is the Yoga version of curling up into a fetal position--you basically just give up, and hide your face.
Cause the guy next to me?
He gave it a real go with "The Crane" and face-planted right onto the hardwood floor.
He missed his whole mat and everything.
Not like that flimsy, rubbery piece of crap would have helped his poor beak, when all 220 pounds of him came tumbling down on it.
And that, my friends, is when I knew that the universe was starting my birthday par-tay.
Here is the condensed version:
Fine Lunch Dinery at Chick-fil-a.
I don't mess around on my birthday.
I know what I like.
I get what I like.
I wore the sash.
Sadly, it did not glean me any swag, but you know what?
It made me happy.
When you are ballsy slash stupid enough to wear a satin sash that says "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" you have to look like you are having! fun!
Random people would wish me well, and I would reply to them "Have fun on my day."
After lunch, we did a little shopping.
We hit Hobby Lobby.
Sam fist-bumped a four year old boy in the store, because they were literally the only males in that place.
Only half the store was on sale this week.
What is with that place?
"Home Decor 50% off!"
Fine print: only ceramic, resin, single hole wall hanging, made in India, festooned with feathers, formerly not on sale, or patterned after tacky hotel decor.
I don't get that place.
I have to go back next week, when the other half of the store is on sale to get the other thing I wanted.
Then we went and saw "The Help."
Internets, I read that book.
I did not cry.
But I guess my heart is a cold and dead thing without a moody soundtrack.
Sam and I both came out of the theater with headaches from trying really hard not to hold onto each other and sob.
I needed tissues.
I snotted all over my sash.
I need to back-track a bit, and let you know that prior to shutting my phone down in the theater, I texted my older kids and told them to clean the house while I was gone.
I knew they wouldn't.
They did.
I was already a little on the edge from holding my emotions in check at the theater...
Nothing says "I love you" to a mother like fresh vacuum tracks.
They helped me make my birthday treat.
My father in law brought me fresh raspberries yesterday, and I hoarded them for this:
 | |
| Craptastic Camera-phone Photo |
Raspberry Trifle Cake
1 (9 oz.) Angel Food Cake (tear into bite-sized pieces and set aside)
Filling:
2 (8 oz.) cream cheese, softened
2 c. powdered sugar
Mix smooth, then add:
1 c. sour cream
1 t. vanilla
1/2 t. almond extract
Mix well, then fold into mixture:
2 c. cool whip (thawed)
Fold cake pieces into filling mixture, gently. Put mixture into a 9x13 pan. Add fresh raspberries to cover.
Prepare:
1 package of Raspberry Danish Dessert (as per package directions)
Pour over the top of the cake, and refrigerate until firm.
I made mine in layers in a trifle bowl.
The night is still young.
Sam told me he still has a present for me.
I have the sneaking suspicion it is in his pants.
(MONEY, you freaking pervs.)
All-in-all, not a bad day.
8 comments:
Happy birthday! Haha, this was laugh out loud funny. Love your sense of humor and how you write!
Happy Happy Birthday!! Loved the post (always do). Enjoy the last year in your 30's--although I just turned 40 a couple of weeks ago and it has been just fine. The only downer was when my 4 yr old asked if I was going to die soon.
Ha! Girly - who r U? Getting all old and sentimental on me! I can hardly stand that Sammy went to both Hobby Lobby and The Help - was he drugged? A little ambien or benadryl maybe? Nah...I think that boy still loves you! Happy 39ish!
"Nothing says 'I love you' to a mother like fresh vacuum tracks."
I am SO stealing this line, and I just might wear a sash on my next birthday as well. Happy birthday!
LOL! You are too funny! Sounds like a good way to spend your bday, well minus the yoga... Happy Birthday again!
So funny! You look incredible too! I wish I looked that good when I turned 39. Maybe I'll try for 40.
oh shaunte...the sash is a riot and i can so hear you telling the world to have a good day on your day! you crack me up woman! i am so glad we have reunited! :)
Hooray for the kids! I so thought they wouldn't have either, since mine wouldn't have. I'll remember to take a box of tissues when I see that movie!
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