Today is my birthday. I'm 37. At 37, you don't really make a birthday list. A relaxing day, a few well-wishes, no cooking. That's about all I ask for. But I can tell you what's not on the list.
1. Cleaning up cat puke. Not on the list.
2. Both my girls waking up before 7. Not on the list.
3. 3 year old tears about ridiculous things (probably related to waking up before 7). Not on the list.
4. High pitched, ear piercing screams from a 1 year old when things aren't going her way (like when she's thrown her toys out of her car seat and then doesn't have anything to play with). Not on the list.
Now maybe when I was 36, a morning like this would have gotten me down. But now, older and wiser, I realize that it's better to just focus on the positives. Like the fact that my daughters pulled it together for a fun morning at the Riverfront Museum with Carrie and Elliott, my thoughtful husband who gave me an unexpected birthday gift, coming across some forgotten-about chocolates in the pantry, nap time. So my daughters (and cats) may not have gotten the memo that my birthday is supposed to be all about doing the things I like. They might have been working off the wrong side of the birthday list. It hasn't been the perfect day, but it's still been a happy birthday.