Party Like it's Your Birthday

Go ahead, call me Ms. Gripey-Pants.

Turning 31 sucked.

And no, it didn't have anything to do with the actual number. It had everything to do with the horrible day.

************************************************

Here's where I delete the paragraphs that followed that statement and just start over. The day of my actual birthday was just a series of small, frustrating moments that added up to a giant blow-up at the end of the night. There wasn't any fighting or drama. Just things that didn't go right, a fussy baby, and a bit of self-pity. Instead, I'll focus on the weekend that followed my actual birthday and the stuff that went right.

 

 

It started off with Puff giving me a talking David Hasselhof birthday card. You can tell by Bimmer's face that she was totally digging it.

 

"Don't forget about my card Mommy! I got you one too!"

 

 

Puff gave me a USC hoodie, a USC t-shirt, and a gift card for a massage at a local swanky spa. I definitely need it. Not necessarily because of stress. More so because I'm old and falling apart and if I sleep wrong at night, my neck and shoulders will be sore for 3 days. I love the look Bimmer has in that picture. She's totally jealous.

 

At the end of the weekend, The Nanny came back by for a few hours to keep Bimmer while Puff and I had a dinner date to get some hibachi. It was super yummy and it was good to have some adult time together. Turning 31 didn't turn out to suck so bad after all.