Why a toddler puking on the couch makes for a great birthday

Today is my birthday. I'm 44. I have a very sick Segunda on my hands. The child can't stop coughing and she throws up and she chokes on her own snot ... you get the idea. My husband is starting to get sick too. Prima's birthday was Wednesday, but we didn't celebrate it until yesterday. Husband travels to Houston very early tomorrow morning. I took Prima to the birthday party of a classmate today. It wasn't much of a birthday. And as I wracked up the sympathy from the kind people who called to wish me a happy birthday, I realized that this is the best birthday ever.

You see, I have a husband whom I have been married to for over 15 years. I have a lovely home. I have 2 children. What more does one need to have a great birthday?

Every time Segunda sprayed her germs all over me when she coughed, I just held her tighter.  Every time Prima complained that she wasn't getting enough attention, I just smiled at her and reminded her about Chinese New Year on Friday, her birthday celebration yesterday and the birthday party we went to today. She begrudgingly sees my point and I love that I'm having these arguments with my newly minted 6 year old.

As I listen to Segunda snore in my lap, it is music to my ears. My children share our bed and I can reach out to them at any time during the night. Which for the last several has meant so frequently that I probably only got about 3 hours of sleep a night as Segunda coughed her way through the night and Prima had nightmares and was fitful. While I'm not a pleasant person on no sleep and have lost my mind at least twice this weekend, I still had the best birthday ever.

Without children, I would sleep through the night and have a lovely dinner with my husband. All of that is well and good, but we planned and waited and waited and waited for our children. We are complete now.

This birthday involved interrupted sleep, 6 loads of laundry, couch throw up (thankfully that happened on husband's watch), bathtime for two kiddos with lots of splashing and bubbles, poopy diapers, a wardrobe change, and a dinner made just for me by my husband. For dessert I ate leftover birthday cake from Prima's birthday celebration the day before. It was a dinosaur cake and it was delicious. This birthday, I know more about dinosaurs than I ever thought I would. I know more about airplanes and helicopters. I know more about hypophosphatasia and mesomeliac dysplasia. I also have more friends because of the communities my children have introduced me to. And as I tucked Prima into bed in her new glow in the dark space pajamas, I realize that my life is so rich that I couldn't possibly claim this to be a crummy birthday just because of a sick child, laundry and throw up, and some social goings on for a 6 year old. This has been the happiest of birthdays!

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