The cold I thought I had turned out the be Strep. The nice thing about that is a couple of doses of antibiotics and I feel almost completely back to normal! Last year I had mastitis on her birthday. My body seems to remember that April 8 is a day to feel pain.
Last night I was lying in bed scrolling through my phone when I came across this.
Unfortunate timing, since I had approximately 2.5 hours left of being 34. I figured I should take stock of my current sexiness, seeing as how it was soon going to vanish like Cinderella’s flaky Godmother (why only give her until midnight? If you’ve got the power to make her life better just do it forever. Geez).
I figured the time around Rowan’s birthday would throw some hard days my way, as memories were dredged up and pushed to the front of my brain in a way they haven’t been in a while. I expected moments of sadness over everything surrounding his birth and the time after — the bittersweet joy of his first birthday.
I’ve assumed that I would have a long and heartfelt post to write for Rowan’s first birthday, full of all the feelings and realities of this past year. But honestly? I’ve said it all so many times already. So rather than rehash all my feelings, let’s talk about Rowan.
Kids don’t care if you spend a week on Pinterest searching for the most clever ways to make a party look like it came straight from Willy Wonka’s brain. They don’t give a shit about themes. Kids want to know where the cake is and what they can climb without getting in trouble. They don’t want specific complicated crafts and games, they want a bunch of misc supplies to supplement their imagination.
Dear Yai Yai,
I didn’t get a chance to write this on your actual birthday because I was sick. Doesn’t that just bookend nicely with your birthday last year? No? Too soon? Yeah, I thought so too.
I had planned a lovely birthday post for/about Lorelei today, but instead I got Mastitis.
Have you ever had Mastitis? If so,