Happy Birthday!

Or not really, but it was a nice day.

Yesterday I hit the big 36, and woke up feeling a bit unwell, with a nasty hoarse voice. The babies were a bit worse; Baby A threw up his breakfast and Baby B had the kind of diarrhea that no diaper created can contain. I changed the bed, changed the babies and changed myself, put everything in the washer, and Baby A threw up again. I didn’t analyze it too much, I went with the gut, and called up my favorite knight in blue dress pants and button down shirt. (Shining armor is no longer de rigueur, thanks to the advent of business casual.) The DH came home lickety split, like the good man he is.

He took one baby out with him to get some bananas and some bread, to fill in the gaps in our pantry. (You know, the BRAT diet – Bananas, Rice, Applesauce and Toast. It’s perfect for an upset tummy baby, all parents agree.) I went back to bed for an hour with Mister Vomit Baby and woke up feeling better. I got the laundry on the line, had a little cereal and the baby woke up when the DH came home.

Then our nice day began; we spent the rest of the day putting in some bedding plants, snacking on bananas and drinking a lot of water and really, really watered down juice. The boys were very happy to have their Daddy home, and, man! An extra set of arms is really useful! Everyone took an afternoon nap, and I felt well enough to go the gym in the evening.

So, it wasn’t a bad day, it wasn’t a fab-o day, but I did have a nice day. I also got a bouquet of flowers, two cards and some sweet phone messages, one of which is worth saving. That Preacher Mom has a lovely singing voice, and her dogs barking in the background added immeasurably to the song.

Happy BARK day to you…