This week we celebrated the birthdays of our oldest and youngest sons. Oldest turned 27 on Monday and youngest turned 19 on Thursday. Because my sister and I have birthdays 5 days (and 3 years) apart and got lumped together all our growing up years, when I realized child number 4 was due close to the birthday of child number 1, I determined to never do that. As I remember the 8th birthday of number 1 son, I recall being still and resting as much as a mom of an 8 year old and two toddlers can do because I didn't want to go into labor and have them sharing birthdays. Son number 4 did make his presence known at that celebration though. He kicked me so hard I came straight up off the couch that night. Not the usual pregnant weeble rising where you roll around your belly so you can finally stand on your swollen ankles and aching feet. No his kick brought me straight up in such a fashion that it was pretty obvious he wanted to be included in the celebration.
Two and a half days later son number 4 did make his arrival. Big brothers proudly came into the hospital room to meet him....all wearing cute little sweat suits with their pants tucked into cowboy boots! Yes. Grandma let them pick their own clothes. And yes I was embarrassed. But they were as proud as they could be!
We've done very well not combining birthdays all these years. Until now. As schedules get busier and busier, the only night available for all to go to dinner this week was Monday. So with both birthday boys in the front seat and mom and dad in the back, we headed to the restaurant. We actually had 6 out of 7 of us at dinner at the same time. As we ate, we had the usual conversations. Sons being the occasional smart mouths. Daughter trying to appear unconcerned about everything. And of course everybody was making fun of mom. During a conversation about our daughter's car, my husband said what I thought was "she wore my tank". Thinking that was some sort of slang for her driving so much she emptied the tank of gas he had just bought her, I looked at him and asked "she wore your tank?" Somehow that turned into "warrior tank" and I thought we were then discussing the war game she constantly plays on her phone. Apparently everyone knew what was going on but me. Hubby told me I needed to say it a little bit louder. I tried to get everyone to drop the subject. Middle son suggested I get hearing aids. And finally I looked at a booth near us where, in the middle of January, sat a rather large, hairy man wearing shorts and a really big tank top. So what my husband was trying to say....."I should have worn my tank." Maybe I do need that hearing aid but at least everyone got a good laugh at me.
The second birthday of the week got a little bit of attention on Thursday. Unfortunately the birthday boy had to work until late and dad got called into work at the fire department so we ended up eating cake and singing "Happy Birthday" at a fire station at 10 o'clock at night. That's the second birthday we've celebrated at a fire station in 6 months. At least it was a different station than last time so we had a whole different bunch of fire fighters to annoy. :)
And now the amazing Pippa! She is growing so much! And she's so smart! We are learning, as my middle son says, to Pippa proof things. I've got some new phone chargers ordered. She really likes chewing on those. And her 'daddy' calls her puddles, a name she definitely earns. But we all love her. Can't help it. She thinks she's a grizzly bear one minute and is a limp fuzzy sleeping rag doll the next. My daughter is getting sick of me posting Pippa pictures on Instagram. But I'm gonna do it anyway.
Never thought I'd be running on a cold, windy January day but actually ran over 2 miles yesterday. So thankful our nutritionist/exercise guru son encouraged me. I would have never believed a year ago that now I would be down over 30 pounds, healthier than ever and loving exercise! One night this week I got out our Wii Fit. While I've been exercising in other ways, it told me that I hadn't used it in 1,215 days! It was, however, very proud of me for my weight loss. And it even told me that I am 34 in Wii years! That's 18 years younger than I actually am. I couldn't believe it. Now tonight when my youngest son set up the Just Dance and we played it for an hour and a half, well that just about killed me. He's really good. I'm really not. And he sure loved watching the playback of our dances that would randomly record. I think that was his favorite part. Not mine. I even made faces at the camera because I knew he would be watching it and laughing at me. Oh well. Wii says I'm 34 so I'll just stick with that. And now crawl off the bed. If I can make it that far. I'm sore. And pooped.
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