It's My Birthday and I'll Cry If I Want To.

I didn't take any Lortab with my Nyquil last night, because the hallucinations have gotten really bad. I am pleased to report that I had a good night's rest and an accusation-free morning, and it feels good. For the last 11 days, I have been stricken down with a razor-blades-soaked-in-lemon-juice sore throat. When I get sick, I always assume it is just the penance part of my personal Pride Cycle, and that God is punishing me. I realize, my illness is probably due in some part, to working in a veritable germ hive, but as my temperature rises, so does my drama.

I awoke this morning to Daveskins tapping a card on my forehead. Ahh, my birthday. It was a lovely card, one that we bought long before we had kids, and have stored just in case we should ever need an emergency, flatulence-themed all occasion card. Apparently today, was just such an emergency. Dave was not able to find an envelope to fit the card, so I struggled a bit to un-cram it from the tiny one he had stuffed it in, but it was worth the trouble. Inside was a lovely note about what a great mother and wife I am, and something about how he would still tap it, even though I am middle aged now. The best part was the hand drawn birthday cake, complete with 31 candles and a self portrait of Naked Dave jumping out to surprise me.(Censor bar included, of course.)

My throat hurt like a son of a biznatch the whole morning, so I didn't put up much of a fight when Dawson wanted to stay home again from school. The kids got their own cereal and I scarfed down 800mg of ibuprofen. With as much ibuprofen as I have eaten over the last two weeks, I am anxiously anticipating a GI bleed, or hopefully a bleeding ulcer. I got undressed to get in the shower, and was briefly distracted by the chipped paint, on my glittery toes. I decided to fix them, and thought it would brighten my spirit to have great toes for my birthday. At the very least, I could inhale enough acetone that I didn't care about my toes.(kidding) Emma somehow sensed that the nail polish box was down from the top shelf, and before I could unscrew the top off of a velvety green color, she had assumed the position in front of me, with her bare toes wiggling excitedly on my thigh, and one of my magazines in her lap. After I finished Em's pedi, I did my own. It was just like having a professional do it, minus the wax, the orgasmic hot stone calf massage, and awkward language barrier, plus I saved $30........Happy birthday to me.

Daws has had a rash for the last few months that I have been ignoring, much to Dave's dismay. When he also came down with a sore throat last Tuesday, being the non-alarmist mother that I am, I blamed a virus and let him stay home from school. I only agreed to take him to the doctor, when Dave started googling rashes on the Internet, which he knows, drives me crazy. So Wednesday of last week, I took him to an urgent care, since his pediatrician wasn't available, and they swabbed him for strep, which was negative, but then told me, he had ring worm. That made no sense whatsoever, but I bought some generic jock itch spray and agreed to hose him down three times a day. Dave was pumped about the diagnosis, seeing as though he had also made the same diagnosis, after printing off pictures of ringworm and holding them next to Dawson's body.

This morning, Dawson's rash was worse and so was his throat. Lucky for us, his pediatrician was in. We made an appointment for noon, and after loading Dyl onto the bus, we headed to Park City. On the way over, Dawson mused that he ought to take me to lunch since it was my birthday. After vetoing McDonalds, and Burger King, he got frustrated and said, "Well, I guess we'll go where YOU want to then." We had a successful doctor's visit where I got the news that it was indeed strep, and not a ring worm in sight. The rash was some big long name that doesn't require any intervention, and will go away in a couple of months. While we were there, I also hopped the kids up on flu vaccine for the dreaded season ahead, and felt like we had really accomplished something. It turns out, I also had a positive strep test, and could have been cured 10 or so days ago, if I didn't think I knew so much. Happy Birthday to me.

Dawson and I finally agreed on Quiznos for my celebratory birthday lunch. No one enjoys a meatball sandwich quite like Dawson, and I love to watch it go down. We had a good lunch and some great conversation. I made sure to thank him for taking me out on my birthday, and he thanked me right back for not making him pay for it, and for doing all the driving.

When Daveskins got home, he informed me that we were going to dinner and that he had arranged for a sitter. There is nothing I crave more than spending time alone with Dave, and it was the perfect way to end my birthday celebration, and the perfect birthday gift, along with all the things I bought myself this month, including a new laptop. Happy Birthday to me.