Mid-afternoon thoughts on turning 43

It's my 43rd birthday. Here's what I think about that...

1. I'm not sure I feel 43, though I'm not sure what 43 is supposed to feel like. My spirit feels younger, not super young, but maybe 38. Or 40. My body? Well, that feels 57. (see #2)
2. Today I called to schedule an MRI of my neck and my mammogram. Nothing says "Happy Birthday to me" like a little controlled radiation.
3. When someone asks what I want for my birthday, I finally understand why my dad always answered that question with "nothing." There's really nothing I am coveting. A few things I would enjoy, but I'm more interested in getting rid of stuff than acquiring more.
4. OK, if I have to name one thing, I'd say a mani-pedi. It feels great, lasts a while and doesn't have to be stored or dusted.
5. Mom's birthday is an excellent behavior modification tool. When Charlie was slow to get out of bed this morning, Robbie said "Get up! It's Mom's birthday." Annie used it to get the boys to stop fighting -- "Knock it off, it's Mom's birthday!"
6. In the order of priorities, the hierarchy today is Robbie & Mike's soccer practice, Annie's play, Mom's birthday.
7. It's much better when your birthday falls just after payday instead of just before. That's ok. I can wait to celebrate tomorrow.
8. Every time there is a card-giving occasion, Mike puts a York Peppermint Patty in the card for me. It's a small gesture, but I love it.
9. I'm 43 and I'm having a mid-life hair crisis. Is there really any point to keep growing it out? 
10. Being wished a happy birthday still feels good -- after all these years. So far, I've gotten 3 birthday phone calls, more than 150 birthday Facebook messages, and a little personal birthday greeting from Mike. (Blush.)

Double digits

Today is kind of a big deal at our house, not just because it is both Annie's and Robbie's birthdays. Not just because it's Annie's Sweet 16. Not just because today is Robbie's 10th birthday. But because,  as of 9:51pm tonight, all of my kids will be in double digits.

For some reason, this milestone has caused me to be a little weepy today. I'm not sad that they are getting older. That's what my job as their mom is, right? To raise them to be independent, contributing members of society. Rather, I'm a bit teary-eyed because I am so proud of who they are as people. And not just my birthday kids, but Charlie too.

Annie is funny and dutiful and caring. She is the one other kids turn to when they need an ear to vent to or a shoulder to cry on.

Charlie is my roll with the punches kind of kid. He doesn't know a stranger and is comfortable in almost any situation. He's my tough guy athlete with a sensitive soul.

Robbie. Oh, Robbie. Robbie is the one who keeps me up at night, who I worry about most of all, maybe because he is my baby. But he is goofy and resilient and shows me every day that there is more than one definition of success.

Way back when my life revolved around sippy cups and diaper bags, preschool Valentine parties and mother's day out, I could not have imagined this day of double digits. I'm glad for that. I'm sure my imaginings would have been far off base.

16. 13. 10. All of them, double digits. Thank you, God.

Roots and wings

There's a saying that you've probably seen on some cheesy wooden plaque at Cracker Barrel that goes, "Our parents give us two things. The first is roots, the other wings." I'm having a roots and wings kind of moment today. Except that I'm feeling one different sentiment for two different people.

Today is February 13. The date upon which Annie and Robbie made their entrances into the world -- in 1997 and 2003, respectively. So today they are turning 14 and 8 and I am left completely believing the cliche that they grow up so fast.

It's for Annie that I'm feeling the exhilaration of wings.

I am just marveling at the person she is becoming. She has found her niche in art and theater. She's off to high school in the fall. She cares for other people's children -- and her brothers -- so well that I sometimes forget she is really still a young girl herself. She is far more confident in herself than I was at her age. She's also stubborn and mouthy at times; I mean she IS a teenage girl. I find myself wanting give her space to enjoy this time in her life, to stretch her wings and figure out where it is she wants to fly and how it feels to do that.

Then there's Robbie. He has me clinging to roots.

Before we had a "baby of the family," I always thought it was ridiculous that parents seemed to treat the youngest of the bunch with so much ease and tolerance. But now I find myself fighting an internal struggle to stay firm and keep my expectations high. Annie and Charlie will tell you that I'm failing. I can't help it. He IS my baby. I secretly love that he climbs in bed with us in the middle of the night. I melt when he comes to me and asks if I will cuddle with him on the couch in front of a movie. So he doesn't tie his own shoes or ride a two-wheeler, yet. That means that he still needs me.

Yes, I am proud of the roots that we've helped Annie dig deep into the soil of who she is. And I do find joy in the wings of independence that Robbie is testing little by little. But mostly, I'm grateful for the opportunity to be here for the ride.

11-year-old boy on life

Today, Charlie turned 11. As his mother, I thought it would be good to know what he thinks about a variety of topics. His answers, unedited, are below:

Girls: Nice and sweet and stuff.

Money: Use it only for good reasons, like to buy video games.

Basketball: You should pass a lot so other people will pass to you.

Football: You have to make the right plays to make it to the right place.

Favorite color: Butler blue.

Favorite food: Lasagna and pizza.

Favorite day of the week: Wednesday, because it's gym day in school.

Favorite book: I'm not a big fan of books.

Favorite movie: Iron Man 2 (Note from the mom: I sure hope that's age appropriate. If not, blame the dad.)

Least hated chore: Unloading the dishwasher, because it's fast.

Most hated chore: Everything else.

United States: We are awesome.

President Obama: He is awesome and I want to invite him to my birthday party. (For the record, he invited Dubya to his birthday party a few years ago.)

God: I love Him and He gave us all this (motioning to the space around him).

The oil spill in the Gulf: Sad, sad, sad.

School: Boring and stupid, except for the fun parts.

If you had a whole day to do whatever you wanted, what would you do: Play video games, play sports and boss Robbie around...no...I would have Robbie help me boss Annie around.

If you were in charge of making dinner, what would you make: I would order pizza.

If you had to give up one thing for the rest of your life, except school or chores, what would it be: SKIP! I'm not giving up anything.

If you were going to write a book, what would it be about: ME! and video games.

What do you want to be when you grow up: A sports player, then maybe an announcer when I retire.

If you could change your life in anyway, what would you do: Get a girlfriend.

That's where the line of questioning stopped because a.) I had to catch my breath after that last answer and b.) I had to launch my "you're too young for a girlfriend and you should just be yourself and be friends with girls" speech.

This one, yeah, he's gonna keep life interesting.

It was so nice...

of the school to hold a dance on the occasion of Annie's 13th birthday!

Ok, so Annie's birthday isn't until tomorrow (February 13). And maybe the school didn't plan the dance in honor of the occasion. But it did work out nicely that we could have a sleepover where the main activity is the dance.

Most of the girls came over before the dance to get ready.

How many 13 year old girls can you fit into one bathroom? (Answer: 6)


A little fuel for dancing the night away.


All set!

Speaking of nice, it was so nice...of Annie to share her birthday with her little brother -- not just tonight, but 7 years ago when he also arrived on February 13. Six years and 39 minutes after his big sister.

Make room for Robbie!


Playing the meddlesome little brother role quite well.

I'm hoping to have him asleep in bed before the girls get home. I figure to Annie that might be the best birthday present ever. Other than getting a little brother, that is.

When did this happen to birthdays?

Pretty much as soon as the ball drops over Times Square on New Year's Eve, my thoughts turn toward birthdays. Annie and Robbie were born on February 13th -- six years and 39 minutes apart.

Most years, I shop for their birthday gifts while I'm Christmas shopping because the deals are pretty good. So in early January, it's time to start thinking about how to celebrate. When I was a kid, birthdays were celebrated by inviting the grandparents over to dinner with cake and ice cream afterwards.

I don't recall choosing a restaurant to go to (though I'm sure we got to set the birthday menu for the home cooked meal). And I'm fairly certain that I only had one, maybe two, "friends" birthday parties. The one I remember for certain was a surprise party for my sweet 16 at the local McDonald's.

What's more, there was only one celebration. Now, because we don't live in the same city as either set of grandparents, we have the celebration with just our family of 5, then the celebration with my parents, then the celebration in Evansville with Mike's parents. And if we plan a friends party, that's FOUR birthday parties. Is it any wonder birthdays wear me out?

So when did birthdays get to be such major productions? Annie's first "friends" party was at the age of 3 -- a Blue's Clues party. Plenty of other bashes followed in the subsequent years. There was the American Girl Coconut the dog party, the horse party where we had friends bring their horse in a trailer to our street and the girls got to ride up and down the street in the freezing cold, the American Idol karaoke party, the movie theater and McDonald's party, and the Steak-n-Shake and magic show party.

The boys' parties have all been outside the house because (shhh...don't tell) little boys scare me. They are loud and wild and they play in a way that makes it look like they are fighting. So we've done the bounce house party, the baseball game party, the basketball court party and the Children's Museum party. And honestly, Charlie gets kind of gypped on the party front because his birthday is in the summer when our budget is stretched a little thin and it's right before the 4th of July, so it seems that most of his friends are on vacation.

Today the calendar reads January 11 -- I have just over a month to figure out how we're going to celebrate Annie and Robbie's birthdays. Part of me would like to keep it low-key. Maybe a Lego-theme party at home for Robbie (with actual boys! gasp! maybe 4 or 5). The other part of me says Annie is turning 13 and that's a big deal.

If the budget would allow, I'd whisk her away to New York City for a Broadway show. Maybe when she turns 16. I've thought about renting a hotel suite downtown so she and her friends can swim, watch movies and be giddy. There's a school dance the day before her birthday. Maybe a sleepover after the dance? Or I might just figure out what a party would cost me and offer her that in cash to spend on whatever she wants.

Too bad I can't just invite the grandparents over for cake and ice cream.

Night at the movies

Last night I took Annie and four of her friends out for pizza and to see Confessions of a Shopaholic as a celebration of Annie's birthday.

Before we left for the restaurant, I hit Walgreens and stocked up on M&Ms and Twizzlers for the movie. Then it was off to meet Annie's friends.

Now, I am a grown woman. I am a wife and mother and professional communicator. So why is it that a group of 6th grade girls can make me feel insecure and thinking "I hope they like me?" Probably because I know that they do like Mike with his fashion sense and never-ending knowledge of popular music.

"Annie, your Dad is so cool!" I've heard on more than one occasion.

But no matter, because last night they got me, not him. So I decided my strategy would be to observe. Give the girls room to be silly (as most 'tween girls in a group setting are) and offer slight direction when needed. Turned out to be a good plan.

I listened as they talked about school, volleyball and Robert Pattison (of the Twilight movie fame). I bit my tongue when they referred to certain pop stars as "hot" -- why does the word "cute" seem so much more innocent? I wondered if they even heard each other as they all tried to tell stories on top of one another. And I was amazed that one pizza and one family order of breadsticks was enough to feed them all!

I guess they were saving room for snacks at the movie, because when we got there, no one took me up on my offer of the sneaked-in candy. Instead, they all spent their own money on popcorn and slushies -- and then ate my candy half-way through the movie when they'd had their fill of the treats they'd bought.

Though we'd chosen the movie purely for fun -- and for its PG rating, I found myself thinking (from my seat behind Annie and her friends) that it could provide a good lesson for my Uggs-coveting daughter and her friends that "stuff" does not lead to happiness. That spending beyond your means can lead to lies and heartache.

On the way home, I listened as one of Annie's friends said, "That movie inspired me!"

"Yes! She got the message," I thought, waiting to hear how the movie inspired her to save her money.

"It inspired me to dress fabulously!"

At which point I delivered my one mini-lecture of the night about saving and avoiding reliance on credit cards. No longer worried about fitting in, I figured if "you can't join 'em, teach 'em."

Of course they paid as much attention to me as they would to a math teacher trying to fit in one more lesson at 2:00pm on the Friday before Spring Break starts. Before the breath of my last word on the subject evaporated, they were already talking about who cried when Luke and Rebecca parted ways in the movie.

All in all it was a fun night. Who knows if the girls got the moral of the movie? And probably they aren't waking up in their own homes today thinking "Annie's mom is so cool." But I consider it a victory that I don't think anyone is thinking "Poor Annie, her mom is such a dork."

At least I hope they're not.

My own Cake Wreck story

Over at Cake Wrecks the other day, Jen showcased some Barbie cake wrecks. Immediately, my mind jumped to my own wreckish incident with a Barbie cake.

When Annie turned 4 years old, she wanted a Barbie Cinderella cake. For Annie's first three birthdays, my mom came over to help me make the cake. But I was feeling pretty confident and decided I could handle this one on my own.

The plan was to make a castle cake and a Barbie cake with the dress decorated like Cinderella's ball gown. I went to the cake store to buy the castle pan and a cake doll. But the store didn't have any cake dolls in stock. So I decided I would just use one of Annie's Barbie dolls to make the Cinderella cake.

I went home, baked the cake in my large Pampered Chef batter bowl, washed the Barbie and wrapped her legs in Saran wrap.

When the cake was finished and cooled, I turned it out on a cookie sheet and cut a large hole down the center for the Barbie to stand in.

She was too tall! The tops of her legs stuck out of the top of the cake. No problem, I thought. I'll just bake a round cake to stand the skirt on, giving Barbie another inch or so to sink into. Because the cake mix made two rounds and I only needed one, I decided to bake one round and a dozen cupcakes so the kids could have a little treat.

Once that baking was done, I put the skirt cake on the round cake, extended the hole into the round cake and slipped Barbie back in the hole.

For crying out loud, that Barbie has legs that just don't quit -- she was still too tall! If I only I had made two round cakes. But I didn't.

"Think Amy..." I told myself. "A ha!" In a flash of creativity, I decided to give the skirt a ruffle on the top by putting a cupcake on top of the skirt, cutting a hole in it and sliding Barbie through all three cakes -- the cupcake, the skirt cake and the round cake.

That's when I discovered Barbie's physical flaw -- her hips were too wide and cracked open the cupcake. Now what to do? About that time, my sister Angie stopped by. Her idea was to cut off Barbie's legs.

Annie overheard the suggestion and was mortified. "No!," she screamed. "You can't cut off Barbie's legs!"

Hmmm....but maybe I could just temporarily pop them off for the purposes of finishing the cake and then put them back on after the party? So I sent Annie to the basement to play and tried to pry Barbie's legs from her hips.

SNAP! SNAP!

Barbie's legs were not meant to come off and trying to get them to do so snapped the hip sockets.

At this point, there was really only one thing to do. So laughing, I called my mom and left her a very short message:

"Three words: Double Amputee Barbie!"

Looking on the bright side, I figured at least Barbie's height was no longer a problem. I removed the cracked cupcake from the skirt and gently place Barbie into the hole in the skirt cake. Well, Barbie certainly wasn't too tall -- she was too short and fell all the way through to the bottom of the stacked cakes.

Shoot! Now what? Not about to let a still perky though legless doll and some homemade dessert defeat me, I thought for minute. Genius!

Remember those cupcakes? Yep -- I shoved them into the cakes to plug up the long tube I'd hollowed out for Barbie to fit in, leaving just enough room for a half Barbie to fit. Finally, the cake was ready to frost to look like Cinderella.

Just as I was finishing, Annie came upstairs and said "Mommy, that is the most beautiful Cinderella cake I have ever seen!" I was beaming.

She went on..."Tomorrow, I'll have to give Julie (the Barbie's name) a bath because her legs will be all sticky!"

"Oh, they might not be as sticky as you think," I said knowingly.

The next day, I had to confess that in the pursuit of the perfect cake, I had broken Julie's legs. Annie was traumatized. Even a drama queen back then, she threw her arm across her eyes and sobbed.

"Can I see her?," she asked?

So I pulled the half-doll out of sink and handed to her.

"No!" She wailed with such anguish that I immediately promised to take her to Target and buy her a replacement.

In the checkout lane at Target, the cashier remarked how nice it was that I was buying Annie a new Barbie, to which Annie replied,

"Well, she had to because she broke off my Barbie's legs!"

As the cashier looked at me like I was the most evil mother on earth, I wished there was a giant cake with a hole in the middle that I could crawl into.

A footnote to the birthday blog

Not only is my friend Clara such a good friend that she took care of Annie on the day Robbie was born, but she also is a faithful reader of my blog, which is how she knew that I didn't have the whole story right:

Hi, thanks for mentioning me in your blog! Here's a correction:

I picked up Charlie at preschool; another mom in Annie's class brought her home. Between the time that I picked up Charlie and Annie came home, C and I raced to the Marsh to get the cake, ice cream, hats/plates/napkins and some balloons. I also picked up a little gift on my way to get Charlie so Annie would have something to open with her cake. She was only six and this was the first birthday that you and her dad had "missed" so she was a little sad about that. We went to the Chinese restaurant and the kids were on their very best behavior. Charlie and I did our best to make the day special for Annie. The cake and the balloons and a new baby brother were nice, but she missed her parents. They're the most important part of every birthday.

Love,

Clara

Isn't that an awesome friend? And aren't I a horrid mother for forgetting in the re-telling of that day that Charlie must have been somewhere?!

I guess just one more reason that Charlie will get the biggest inheritance (don't worry Annie and Robbie, by the time your dad and I are done, they'll probably only be $5 left!)

12 and 6 years ago...

Twelve and six years ago, a mother brought forth on this continent two new children, conceived in passion, and dedicated to the proposition that they should spend their time on making sure that all gifts, chores and affections shown to them be created equal.

Today is Annie's 12th and Robbie's 6th birthday. They were born six years and 39 minutes apart -- she at 9:12pm and he at 9:51pm. We didn't plan it to happen that way, but it did. Bear with me, I've got two birth stories to share, so this is a bit long.

Welcome Annie
With Annie, I went into the hospital at 7am to be induced. Only 3 days past my due date, I wanted to wait a bit, but my doctor was going out of town and I didn't want to deliver without her. So we made a party out of the occasion. My parents and Mike's came to wait out the labor with us. Both of my sisters and my oldest brother stopped by too. We took bets on the time the baby would be born, the gender, the weight.

My nurse's name was Rowena. I remember that because she came in and said "Hi-ah! I'm Rowena and you're my very first patient. I just finished nursin' school!" Not exactly what you want to hear when you're having your very first baby.

The day went on. I chatted with my a good friend from high school who was in a hospital in Ohio being induced with her first baby, too. I sent Mike and his parents to go get some lunch. The pitocin was making the contractions a bit uncomfortable, so I got an epidural.

I sent Mike and his parents to go get some dinner. Still no baby. The doctor came in and mentioned a c-section. I panicked a bit because I hadn't read that chapter of What to Expect When You're Expecting. Mike unpacked it from my bag, I read it quickly and waited for the re-dose of the epidural, which went the wrong direction and numbed me from the chest up. Talk about scary!

Soon enough -- with the right parts numbed -- we headed to the OR to have our baby. I got to watch the operation in a mirror placed next to my head. When the doctor pulled her out, Mike said "It's a girl!" and I don't remember much else -- except that she was 10 lbs. 4oz.

On the way to recovery, someone put her in my arms and I remember thinking, "This is the dumbest place for a new baby!" I was so loopy on pain meds by then. Mike asked what I wanted to name her -- Anna or Elizabeth. I picked Anna and the rest is history.

Hey there, Robbie!
Robbie's birth was a little different. Again I was overdue, but my plan was to have a VBAC -- it had worked beautifully with Charlie. We woke up on Annie's birthday, had breakfast together and let her open a gift. I told her that we'd go to her favorite Chinese place for dinner that night and sent her off to school with her birthday treats in hand.

Two hours later, I was talking to a friend on the phone, stood up from the couch and realized that my water had broken. I wasn't really in a hurry -- we were going for the same "new age" doula-assisted birth and I didn't want to get to the hospital until I was dilated 5cm. Don't ask me how I was gonna know when that was.

But there was meconium in the fluid and the doctor said to head on in. I called my friend Clara, asked her to meet Annie after school, take her to Chinese and wait for Mike's parents. I called the school to ask them to tell Annie and then called Mike who was just dropping Charlie off at preschool. Finally, I called the doula -- who said she wasn't sure she could make it because she thought she had strep.

A few hours later, we were at the hospital and dang if I wasn't in some serious pain! The doctor came in to say she was leaving for vacation (what is it with docs and February vacations?) and was handing me over to another doctor. The doula called to say that she really wasn't coming because yes, she did have strep and her toddler was projectile vomiting, but she was looking for a replacement to send.

Mike was great, trying to help me and get me to hang on until the replacement doula could arrive. But at some point, I just hollered "Forget the doula and get me an epidural!" (Only I didn't say f..."orget," but this is a family-friendly blog.)

About 8 hours later, with a monitor on the baby's head and Friends on the TV, I realized that the drumbeats of the baby's heart were getting faster and faster. Up over 200 beats/minute. Not long after, we were on our way to the OR again. No mirror this time, despite my request. But Mike got to call "It's a boy!" and away Robbie was whisked to the NICU to be treated for some distress and to have his blood sugar monitored because of my gestational diabetes.

At some point I learned he weighed 9 lbs., 1 oz. and we named him. Though I don't remember when all that happened. He looked so much like Annie -- round faced and chubby. So we named him Robert. If he had looked like Charlie -- long, lean and like a little old man, he would have been named William.

Annie later said that when her teacher told her that Mommy was having the baby on her birthday, she cried "tears in happiness" and that her new brother was "as cute as a plumberry."

A lot of people ask if they mind sharing a birthday. And they don't. The only one who used to mind is Charlie -- because the cake and the presents aren't for him. But Mike's parents always celebrate his "unbirthday" and give him a gift too. Plus, he thinks it's cool that he doesn't have to share his day.

Some people ask what's so special in early May that we ended up with two kids born on the same day. Well, duh! Mother's Day!

Top 10 reasons why this birthday blows

Today is my 38th birthday and I'm feeling sorry for myself. I didn't intend to feel sorry for myself, it's just worked out that way.

It's not that my family forgot my birthday -- my parents, my in-laws and all of my siblings have called with birthday wishes. A dear friend sent me a lovely e-mail bright and early this morning. Heck, even my next door neighbor e-mailed to say "Happy Birthday."

It's not the age itself. 38 is not 40 -- or 50 or 60 -- after all. I guess I just have to chalk it up to "It's by birthday and I'll cry if I want to."

So, allowing myself to wallow in self-pity, I've come up with a list:

Top 10 Reasons Why this Birthday Blows:

10. The birthday clean up fairy did not come to my house and magically make all the mess go away.

9. None of my online buddies wished me a Happy Birthday.

8. I'm immature enough to let #9 bother me.

7. I didn't get to sleep in because the kids had to go to school today (which will make its way onto my not-yet-conceived Top 10 reasons school should not start until after Labor Day).

6. I keep saying birthdays don't matter to me, but the fact that I'm making this list shows that they really do and that irritates me.

5. I had to cancel my birthday lunch with my sister because I cannot find my stinkin' car keys (and by default, my stinkin' house or office keys as well).

4. We are out of Diet Cokes and I couldn't go get more (see #5).

3. The mailman brought more bills than birthday wishes.

2. The 38 pounds I was supposed to lose before my 38th birthday are still here -- and they've invited a few friends to stick around as well.

1. No cake.