I really like birthdays. I think of them as a time to remember exactly why I love the people I love. Growing up, we didn’t celebrate our birthdays and I was always sad about that. Missing Christmas never bothered me, but I sure wanted a party the year I turned 10.

Anyway, I usually go on here about my friends on their birthdays, and today will be no exception.

Today is the birthday of my very very very good friend Sheryl. Her son is my dear friend and he introduced us a few years ago. She very well could have disregarded me as I imagine most parents would, but instead she took the time to get to know me, and I simply could not imagine my life without her in it. She is a wonderful mother, wife and friend. I learn something new every time I see her. She is amazingly smart and talented and artistic and beautiful and wise and kind and I am more grateful for having her in my life than I could ever tell you.

This one is kind of hard for me. You see, I have these issues with women, particularly mother-figures, and she is the first woman in my life that I have trusted and loved easily, and don’t think that doesn’t scare the bejesus out of me. I sometimes think I have the words for how I feel about her, but I know I don’t really. I guess I never will.

I just love you. I don’t know how else to say it. Thank you for you, for all that you are. You make every day of mine a little better. I am so glad you were born. Thank you for your family, who I could not live without. Thank you for your stories, your time, your friendship.

I love you. My kids love you. Happy Birthday.

Today we went to a birthday party for my feind MollyG’s kid, the kid. It was a lovely party. The theme was Harry Potter (I wish I was creative enough to give themes to my kids’ parties), and so we played games like try-to-guess-the-Bertie-Bott’s-Beans-flavor, and find the Sorcerer’s Stone in the Jenga blocks and so on. You get the idea. Everyone played pass the baby, which was super duper nice for me. There was magical simmering punch (dry ice=bad ass party drink). It was a great day, and I got to see Molla’s family and friends that I have not seen in years.

I remember clearly how The Kid came into my world. Molla had moved to Ireland, and seeings how I’m hopelessly devoted to her & all, I was a little broken up about it. I really have no words for how bad I missed her. Well, time went on & I got used to her being gone, as one does, and then one day our old anthropology teacher from high school came into the diner I was working at. We caught up with each other and he asked how Molla was. I filled him in on her travels and then called Moll’s mom to get a phone number or email address or something I can’t fully remember so that he could contact her. Her mom’s response to my request was, “Well, she’s sitting right here. Ask her yourself.”

Enter The Kid.

She got pregers, she came home, she had a baby, the rest is history.

He is beautiful in every way. A lover, a Beatles fan, a good son and grandson. Kind, sweet, interesting, funny and smart. I love him.

So happy birthday, Kid. Thanks for getting in your mommy’s tummy. We are happy to have you. Me especially, cause you brought me home my friend.

Come one, come all, to RMBB 5.0.
Please come. I really need a date.

After a good long fight with the lovely husband last night, and an even longer night with the baby (though not nearly as long as hers was), I was a bit tired this morning and slept in. Since I was the winner of last nights’ spat, J was still seeking atonement and more than happy to get up with the kiddies.

Allow me to mention here that he never gets up with them.

Here’s what I woke up to:

• A bowl of cereal that was not consumed (and I am assuming that there is a kindergarten teacher with a very pissy 5 year old right about now)
• Two lunch boxes on the kitchen counter, meaning that 2 boys are having gross school lunch, even though the fridge and pantry are literal jam-packed with convenience sized, healthy, tasty sack lunch options, organized so freakin’ efficiently (OCD all the way, baby!) that the kids could have packed their own lunches
• A missing hamster
• A heating vent unscrewed and propped open, with a baited trap comprised of a food dish, a screwdriver and a Unicorns and Other Magical Creatures library book set inside it for said hamster who has been running through the heating ducts under the floors of the living room all day
• B’s math homework, which would be doing him a lot more good in his math class today
• A wheel to a rack thingy that T lifted from the classroom yesterday (the boy has some light fingers) that I was hoping to sneak back in before the teacher noticed it was missing
• And, amazingly enough, a fresh, hot pot of coffee, a smiling, diapered baby and a husband who was quite proud that he handled it all without me.