I would like to rant a little about birthdays, and the expectations I tend to have of them. Every morning when I first come to consciousness, I think about what I have on my agenda. Oh yeah, it's my birthday! It's just a day. But it's my birthday!
The thing is, I don't like when people get me presents, especially my kids, who don't have much money. I got a Dyson vacuum cleaner from my mother-in-law yesterday, and I do love love love it, but I feel bad that she spent all that money on me.
Last year, I had all 16 of my kids together at Emily's house for my birthday, and that was beyond excellent. Today, I am not sure who I will see. I have not heard from Samuel yet, and Mirielle has to work tonight. Paul is still in France, and Benjamin is in Washington state.
The birthday rant: For years and years and years, all I wanted for my birthday was help cleaning up this house, ha. My mother used to say that all she wanted was 7 good kids, and we would tell her she already had the 7 kids part.
I got up and went for my walk this morning, then cleaned up the counters and floors and did some laundry. The older kids are just eating breakfast, they didn't appear until after noon, those nocturnal teenagers.
We are running out of dogfood and milk and bread and butter and fresh veggies and and and, so for my birthday, I suppose I get to go on a trip to the grocery store.
My little girls are hilarious, they made themselves dresses out of blankets this morning, all draped and pinned with clips and hair ties.
Some of the girls made French toast and it smells so good! I am behaving myself. I had a 100 calorie Greek yogurt with toasted almonds and strawberries.
Ah well, I am a happy girl. I am happy because it is a lovely sunny day, it is summertime, and Paul is coming home on Saturday night. I am happy because I have all these kids, who are growing up and turning into friends. I am happy because Duke and Suri love me, and go outside with me every single time I go out the door. Duke is more of a follower than Suri, he keeps his eye on me, and I love it. If I go to one of the older kids rooms to talk to them, he is there. He will follow me from room to room, lying down and sighing while I talk, then getting up to follow me when I leave again. He is a talker too, he does this whining-wagging thing when he sees me.
Anyway. I am a happy girl. I think if we truly realized how short life actually is, no one would be anything but thankful for each day.
For the record, this is the most disjointed blog post I have ever written. I have gotten a phone call, a few texts, said good morning to Margaret, helped Jonathan open the plastic wrap, helped put the hose back where it belongs on the new vacuum cleaner, advised the kids not to eat the strawberries Mirielle bought, Jon said she has plans for them, sorted out a fight about the xbox....