Today is my 32nd birthday. All week people asked if I had any special plans, but I never answered because we're broke folks and it's really not that big of a deal.
So my day went something like this:
9:30am - wake up, take over kid duty after dad leaves
10am- start breakfast
-clean up dog poop
-wipe up dog pee
-get Stella milk
-get Cole milk after long whiny session
-take Stella out of the pantry
-tell Cole three times to get off the back of the couch
10:45- finally finish omelets and muffins for 3 kids. feed kids. turn on cartoon.
10:47am- go to smoke.
11am - resume kid duty. repeat same wiping, cleaning up blocks, repeating "No, Cole, I don't have any suckers, you can't have any candy," picking up dog poop, helping with wiping butts, changing diapers, telling big kid to take a shower already.
Somewhere around 1:30pm- make lunch, feed kids, go to smoke again.
1:45pm- Stella falls asleep so I put her down for her nap. Try to nap myself. Cole runs up and down the stairs between me and his big sister, waking Stella, who goes back to sleep on her own. I toss and turn in my own bed, then lie still to try to bring on the sleep.
3pm- Stella wakes up due to Cole being loud and arguing with big sister. I had just fallen asleep.
Repeat diapers, blocks, playing, cleaning, vacuum, pick up toys, step on cars and curse, step on blocks and curse. Go to smoke.
5:30pm- Kev calls to say he's picking up dinner. I miss the message.
6pm- I call Kev asking where he is. He says obviously I didn't get his message. Duh.
6:30pm- Kev gets here with two fish tacos from Fuzzy's and a milkshake from Wendy's, two of my favorites. Yum.
Rest of evening: hang out with friends. Goes nicely. Kids go to bed easily. Day ends well. Yay.
On another note, my mom told me 32 has a lot of meaning for her because she and my dad were divorced at 32. "Not that that's what's going to happen to you," she said. Haha. It's strange to think that she had a 12 and 9-year-old at the same age that my kids are 3-1/2 and 1-1/2. What a difference a generation makes.