I woke to the sound of the baby crying - nothing unusual there, but it was a bit after 6am: which is a lot better than 4.30am. WIN.
I came downstairs to see the Bombshell and the Mop sitting at the table eating their breakfast. They weren't even fighting. Much. WIN
'Good morning, Mummy,' the Bombshell said. 'Happy Birthday.'
'Party,' agreed the Mop.
I gave them both kisses then walked over to where my husband was spooning cake batter into ten thousand mini cupcake cases. 'Happy Birthday,' he said. 'Presents!' he said gesturing with a spoon. Presents. WIN
I grabbed the baby and settled down on the couch to feed her. The Bombshell collected my presents and stood in front of me unwrapping them for me. Two beautiful rings, amethyst and amber, and some measuring cups that stack together like Matryoshka dolls. WIN.
The Bombshell showed me a picture she had drawn of the family. Three little girls all with striking blue eyes. Mum, with brown eyes. 'I'm sorry that none of us have brown eyes, so that your brown eyes wouldn't be so lonely,' she told me.
My husband took the Mop off to daycare, with promises of being home early to take me out to dinner. WIN.
The Bombshell then took me solemnly by the hand to her bedroom. She showed me her bed which she had made with extra special effort. 'I did it extra good because it's your birthday, Mum,' she told me.
And then she made my bed. WIN (sort of).
|This is actually the 'after' picture|
The baby went down for her morning nap with no screaming or yelling or rogue poos. WIN.
The Bombshell offered to decorate my cupcakes for me. She even swept up all the 100s and 1000s that she dropped on the ground. WIN.
All morning my phone has been beeping with messages from friends and family. Birthday wishes on Facebook, on my blog from readers, cards in the mail. A friend took me for breakfast. I love breakfast. WIN.
When we left for school, my new skirt blew in the wind and tore along our rough stone wall. I looked at it sadly.
The Bombshell took my hand, and said 'I think you would be a lot more sad if you lost one of us three kids.'
Wow, talk about perspective. From a FIVE year old.
Happy Wednesday everyone. I hope you all get some wins.