On the eve of my thirty-first birthday, I wished that Aerin would go to bed easily for the night and stay asleep for at least three hours.
But her witching hour had seemed to shift forward by about 3 hours. For at around 9pm, she became a whiny, crying, cranky mess…
And stayed that way until exactly 11:59pm —
When she projectile-vomited all over herself and our bed.
Happy birthday, mommy.
I didn’t even know her little stomach could hold that much.
My husband and I ended up spending the first moments of my 31st birthday cleaning up our second child, ripping off our sheets and loading up the washer so that nothing stains, unsuccessfully looking for clean sheets (we currently only have dirty ones in the house as we’ve just changed our sheets), giving up, and resorting to sleeping on the bare mattress.
Oh, and trying to put Aerin to sleep once more. She’s still not asleep. I am typing this as she lies awake, eyes wide-open, seemingly content for the time being on the swing.
The mini-cupcakes that J had surprised me with earlier in the night, minus the birthday
candle and minus one cupcake (which was in my tummy when this picture was taken).
Fact: this was the very first time in the history of our 8-year relationship that he was able
to surprise me. I was so proud of him!
My thirtieth year on this earth was the most trying year of my life.
It also held some of the most memorable, and joyous occasions.
Parenthood will do that to you; didn’t you hear?
If anything — with two kids just 13 months apart — I expect this year this to have even lower lows.
But I am hoping, and praying, for higher highs as well.
Happy birthday to me.