My 29th Birthday!
(hee hee...in other words, I am 33 today!)
So what do you do when you're 33...you reflect on your life and everything that has lead up to this day. So let me tell you my friends, I am grateful.
My life is not perfect...I wouldn't want it to be.
My husband makes me crazy at times...and I'm still head over heels in love with him.
My house is not as big as I'd like it to be...but it's just right for my family.
My dog barks loudly and often wakes up my 3 sleeping children...but, she lets them pull her fur, climb on her, she licks their messy faces and oh how she loves her babies.
My car is a disaster...but it is a safe ride for all of us.
The family I grew up with is very different now...but I still have parents who love me dearly.
I don't make as much money as I'd like...but I have a job, working with wonderful people and we are able to support our family.
My house is usually a mess...but the memories we make while that happens are totally worth it!
Frankly, my list could go on and on...there are so many things I am grateful for at my young, young, super young age of 33 :) So if you want to know what I'm most thankful for, you'll have to look in my mirror. It's.....
(be glad I didn't use the bathroom mirror speckled with toothpaste spatter and grubby handprints...)
I really am grateful for all of you. Whether you are my husband, my family, friends, coworkers, or even people I don't know personally. You support me, encourage me, laugh at me, inspire me, you ask about my children, you come play with my children, you read my blog and make me want to keep writing. Being 33 is not so bad...Thank you. All of you.
And now, the best part about being 33? Exactly one year and one month ago, I became a mother to the most hysterical, loveable, adventurous triplets ever, after a long, hard fought battle with infertility. I am blessed. No matter how crappy the day, no matter how smelly the puke or how gross the poop, I get to be "the mommy" to these 3 little cherubs for the rest of my days. Wow.
(since I know you're wondering, let me tell you how he earned this name and why he looks like he tangled with a barbed wire fence... In short, my mom has a cat. If you look fast, you might mistake him for a mountain lion. He's a BIG, FAT cat. He's darn loveable, and very cuddly. But....he is a cat. He doesn't like small children crawling on top of him, trying to poke his eyes out or pull his whiskers. And really, can you blame him? Unfortunately, Colton is far too curious to let the mountain lion scare him, so...he persistently tries to "pet the kitty", and....the kitty tries to scratch the living crap out of Colton. Oops.) I'd like to say he'll learn his lesson, but so far, not so much. It was probably an hour after being scratched, he was right there in Max's face, AGAIN! Oh well.
If you're wondering whether or not we're going to get rid of the cat, the answer is NO WAY! (So don't bother telling me how dangerous cats are with children. We have two of our own anyway, and they'll just have to learn to coexist. ) He's a cat. Colton's a kid. This is the first of what I presume will be MANY accidents, broken bones, scrapes, sprains, etc. And I'm way too laid back to let THIS freak me out! So the kitty is safe. Colton is safe.
Everybody is happy.
Life Is Good.
And it's my birthday! Happy Birthday to me!