Let's start with the highlights, shall we? In no particular order of awesomeness:
At floor hockey last night (admittedly, after a glass and a half of Very Good Wine), I scored my First Goal Ever. And then, about 3 minutes after that, I did it again! I can now quit forever, having peaked, with perfect timing, I might add, in the playoffs. "I choose not to hock".
The day started with my traditional 7 am Birthday Breakfast at Cora's - and if you weren't invited, don't be mad-but-relieved-at-the-same-time. This year's was just the fam. And Grandpa even drove in from North Gower! What dedication! What caring! What a great example to set! (everyone else, take note for next year)
The aforementioned Very Good Wine (2003 Kaesler Stonehorse BV Shiraz) was accompanied by steak, sweet potatoes, and broccoli with gourmet (pronounced "goor-mit") cheez sauce, followed by an amazingly dense, moist chocolate cake with smooth-and-creamy white icing à la chef Christophe Encraque. I have decided to keep him.
I have a Kindle! So neat! Feeling very proper and pretentious, I immediately downloaded the Complete Works of Jane Austen for 89 cents. And after getting about 12 pages into Emma, I decided that honestly, since Kindles are for people that are ashamed of what they're reading, I then downloaded a fluffy romance. I was far too spoiled, also ending up with gardening gear, gift cards, jewelery, and warm fuzzies from friends near and far.
Discovered the number 3 reason to have kids!
As we may recall, the number 1 reason is because of baby sneezes. I forget number 2. But number 3 is because they laugh at my jokes. Hard.
And now the lowlight:
Ailsa threw up all over her crib and herself, right before I climbed into bed. Chris was awesome, though - he dealt with de-funkifying her (an overwhelming job) while I changed sheets and scraped large pieces into the toilet, while trying not to barf, myself.*
Today was harder. Vaughn got up early (as in 5 am), which makes me cranky because then I am awake at 5 am, and also because then he is a miserable little boy all day long, as anyone who has been within a 100-metre radius can attest. Ailsa woke up happy, chugged back her milk, and then launched it a good three feet, using just the power of projectile vomiting (she takes after her mother!). And then she was fine again, till we went to the pool with the banshee (above), and she threw up all over the bleachers. The lifeguard was very good at it, and waved away my apologies, saying that next time, if she threw up in the pool, then the lifeguards would get a break. How nice, but I was still dripping with baby puke. Again.
Finally, I realized, that although "35" is just a number, if I were still competing, I would now be in the Masters' category. Granted, yes, I'd kick a$$, but what a sobering thought.
*Hey, remember when I was the one that would throw up on my birthday? :)