It was the best of times; it was the worst of times

Don't you just love your birthday? I know I do. I recently had one; thanks for remembering. It's always the very best day of the year. Promptly followed by the worst day of the year, when nobody cares that you're one year older. One day, everything is great, the day is all about you and what you want. Attention, presents, phone calls and texts. What's not to love, right?

But the next day, the party is over, you go back to being just like everyone else, and everybody forgets how great they thought you were just hours earlier. That's why I do not like to go to sleep on my birthday. Because I know when I wake up, the magic is gone.

I like to make the most of the day. Since Jack was working, I slept in until Annie woke me. She insisted on being fed first. So selfish, I know. I skipped my morning meeting with the elliptical machine because everyone knows that birthday calories don't count.

Later, the girls and I had lunch with my parents and enjoyed a long skyped conversation with Meredith and Madeleine. I kept trying to get little M to say my name, but all she would say was "pampers." Her new favorite word. I wasn't too offended. I knew she really meant "happy birthday Aunt Emily."

Jack came home with an impressive bouquet of flowers and poured me a birthday sized glass of cabernet. He somehow knew just what I wanted.

We had dinner with Jack's grandparents and uncle. Jack's grandfather was celebrating his 80th birthday the same day, but he was kind enough to share some of his octogenarian birthday glory with me. And Jack's grandmother even got my favorite kind of cake. Caramel. It was delightful.

When we got home, we still had 2 hours of birthday left, and I was determined not to let the day end until I passed out from birthday exhaustion. (exhaustion / wine, toMAto / toMAHto)

Jack was putting SB to bed while I got Annie down. Annie turned out to be slightly more difficult, but that's another post in itself. After I had freed myself from Annie's grasp, I decided that Jack and I would round out the day with Mad Men, one of our new favorite shows. Then I found poor Jack asleep next to SB. In a selfless act of birthday kindness, I let a sleeping Jack lie.

I didn't even pout the next day, as Jack is well aware of my post birthday depression syndrome. But he was well prepared, and when I woke up, he announced that this year, the day after my birthday would also be my birthday.

What a wonderful idea! I celebrated with a piece of caramel cake for breakfast. By the way, my weight loss plan has been going great. A few days ago, I noticed that I was down to my pre pregnancy weight. I'm pretty sure that during my 48 hour birthday, I regained most of what I lost. Someone needs to remind my scale about birthday calories.

We celebrated again that night by having dinner with friends and more caramel cake. The perfect end to a perfect birthday(s).

I have a sitter coming today to keep the girls while I go to a baby shower.To combat the post birthday depression, I'm seriously contemplating dropping off a present, grabbing a latte from Starbucks and enjoying it while having a mani/pedi.

Don't laugh. PBDS is a very serious condition. I'm in a fragile state and must take care of myself today. I wonder how long my babysitter can stay. Maybe even a little shopping would be good for me. And of course, some caramel cake.