Thirty-Nine Years and Counting

Happy birthday to me! Anyone else out there have to actually do the math to figure out how old they're turning? I was born in 1979 (on a cold and foggy night . . .), so that means this is my 39th birthday. And what do I have to show for these 39 years?

A lot of children and a really messy house. The one begets the other.

New Mexico has decided to morph from southern Arizona weather to upstate New York weather, so it's currently 26 degrees with a couple of inches of snow on the ground. A. has to do some serious wood cutting today to get ready for the single-digit temperatures coming our way. He did get up this morning to field the morning demands (and refereeing) from the children while I lazed in bed until the shocking hour of 6:40 a.m.*

I'm drinking my second cup of coffee while Charlie reads a book to Poppy--might as well take advantage of having both literate children and a baby who wants to read board books all the time--and will shortly go into the kitchen to make my breakfast. Which I will not be sharing.

If you can't be selfish on your birthday, when can you? (Answer: Never, if you have children. Including birthdays.)

Anyway. Have a pleasant day, my lovelies. Feel free to eat some cake in my honor today if you so desire.

* I usually get up any time between 4:30 and 5:30 a.m., so this is sleeping in for me.