It turned out pretty darn ok

So, despite my melancholy pissing and moaning, my birthday turned out pretty fantastic. Although I had my doubts most of the day. It didn't start out so well.

There were daycare kids and my own who just refused to listen to me. I think they all sat in timeout for most of the day. The black dress I wanted to wear to dinner didn't quite fit right on my burgeoning belly. It's an empire waist but has a wide patent leather belt that just sat funny on the top of my little passenger. So I settled for my old stand by, maternity black pants and white top. I had my hair cut the day before and loved it but when I tried to repeat the style that I left the salon with, I ended up in a fight with my hair dryer. I don't suppose I have to tell you who won. The lipstick I bought was just not quite the right shade of red. By the time that Jaimie called to say he had to push back the reservations, I was ready to say "let's just order pizza". But boy am I glad that I didn't.

Jaimie took me to a restaurant that he has been raving about for months, Isaac's (I would put a link here but they don't have a website). It was a beautiful, quiet, dim restaurant. At first I was afraid that the little traveler wouldn't let me eat very much from the menu, but when I caught a glimpse of the tenderloin with bernaise sauce, my passenger relented on his/her assault on my stomach. Seriously, best food in a looooooooooooong time. The second that the fork passed my lips my mouth burst with happy taste buds. Oh.My.God. It was that good. The only thing missing was a deep, rich, dry red wine. Oddly enough, this passenger craves red wine (much like his/her sister did). However, I do have some sense and kept my indulgences to some caffeinated coffee. When we finally poured ourselves out of our seats, we were full without being too full and lazily drove home to a little girl who did NOT want to sleep until we were home. Lucky for her (and the babysitter) we are early dinners and arrived home just after 9pm. My husband stole away with Amelia for a few minutes to get my gift ready. Oh ya, my gift. A "queen for the day" at the Brokstreet Spa. How bloody fantastic is that? How amazing is my husband? Seriously. Seriously.

As if that weren't enough, we spent the next day feeding ducks and shopping for Amelia's ballet school uniform. We were then to go to my friend's house for what I thought was a quiet evening to discover that she had been in cahoots with Jaimie to get some of our dearest friends over to celebrate with us. I was completely spoiled and loved every minute of it. I woke up this morning at 8:30am!!! I haven't slept in that late since way before Amelia was born. I had a cup of the most amazing tea (a rockin' birthday present) and had a really easy Sunday morning. Well, after I broke the bodum but that's another story.

It was the first birthday in a long time that I didn't feel completely sad that it was only about me. Sometimes the things in life that I am missing can eclipse the many, many things that I am grateful for; but I am glad that I had a mom who taught me to let the happy cast a shadow over the sad.

Happy flippin' birthday to me

Tomorrow is my birthday. The Leo in me (yes, in some books I am a cusp Leo. And anyone who knows me knows that I am a Leo.) waits for this day like it's Christmas. Only it's better than Christmas simply because there is no snow on the ground. Summer is winding down but there are still a few magical days and mystical nights left before September rolls in with school, cool mornings and chilly nights. I love this time of year, it's like beginning all over again. Fresher, wiser, happier. I am not sure if I feel this because it is my birthday and I am starting a new year or if it comes from when I was still in the days of shopping for back to school supplies. Never the less, it is the beginning of my favourite time of year, fall. The colours are everywhere and I feel like I am inside a painting.

I always felt my birthday was extra special because I share it with my mom. 35 years ago tomorrow I arrived 1 day early (after a 2 hour labour!) to be my mom's 38th birthday present. We have always celebrated our birthdays together. When I was little, I wasn't really aware it was her birthday. I always thought that my birthday was during the day and hers was at night. As I got older I saw our shared birthday not as a lucky coincidence but as further proof that I was hers. I belonged to her. Although it was well known that I was born on her birthday, I always felt like she and I shared some special secret between us.

This is my fourth birthday without her and each year brings the same melancholy feeling. I think that this day is harder for me than the anniversary of her death. For on this day, more than any other, I feel her absence. She is missing from life in so many ways. As I came into motherhood, as I wait for this little one to arrive. As I quit the job she hated so much and began down the path she so desperately wanted to go down with us (SAHM). The million times a day I still think, "I really have to tell mom....". But I am getting used to those days. I don't really cry anymore on those days. I miss her but she brings a smile to my face. But on this day, the day to celebrate our beginnings, I can really feel our ending. Like our secret is gone.

I have a great family and great friends that make this day a little better. My amazing husband has arranged for a babysitter and is whisking me away for a romantic dinner. One of my best friends is having us over the next day for a little dinner party with just our families. I am truly thankful for all the blessing that I have. I am so lucky to have found Jaimie. We are so blessed to be Amelia's parents.

However, only for this day, I am sad for what I don't have anymore.

There are time machines, RIGHT?

Monday was Amelia's first day of school. Well, not really. It was meet the teachers night at her soon to be nursery school. She was a bit shy with the teachers but she tore all around that place jumping and sliding. Breaking each one of their carefully posted rules.

I am so happy with my decision to send her to nursery school. I was hesitant at first since I DO stay at home. But Amelia really needs to be socialized in a setting that's safe and away from me. Since she is in love with the idea of school, I thought that nursery school would be the best place for her.

I was really enjoying watching her run and laugh. I was good. Until. I turned around to look at a bulletin board and saw it. A tiny green cartoon frog with "Amelia" written in penmanship that puts my chicken scratch to shame. Before I knew what was happening, much less stop it, tears were welling up in my eyes. I could totally blame this on pregnancy hormones, but this had nothing to do with pregnancy. Not this one anyway.

She's growing up.

I think of all those nights I spent trying to get her to latch, or stop crying or SLEEP. I would, God help me, wish away this or that stage. Please, I can't wait until she is more independent. She's taken small steps. She's even been in daycare. But since I made the decision, almost a year ago, to keep her home with me she has been stuck to my hip. Now she will venture out into the world a bit. And this time she can't wait! And today I am squeezing my eyes shut and wishing with all my might that she will somehow morph back into that tiny baby who would giggle in the middle of the night when she woke up.

Can you imagine what the ACTUAL first day of school will be like?

Here I go again on my own

There's so many things in life that happen that I think I should write down and save for someone to read. I have started and stopped many diaries. I am sure that if you took each one and put them together it might, MIGHT fill a Hilroy copybook. I always feel like I am writing for someone, even in a diary. Maybe it's the need I have to have everyone like me. It could be that I always feel like fate is watching me and reading every line of drivel that I scrawl down. But lately I am thinking it's just the plain attention whore in me that thinks that people are actually caring about (judging) what I have to say.

This is not my first blog. I had two other ones. But again, that need to be witty and charming (and grammatically correct) with each word that poured forth totally ruined the experience for me. It became too much like work and not about me. Which, really, isn't a blog really supposed to be all about you? Your life, your thoughts, or whatever you choose it to be? So I start again. Racking my brain for a clever name. Trying out different names in my head that will portray me as a madly clever and funny woman to people I don't know who may happen upon my blog.

So I cleared my head just now (in the bathroom because aren't the best ideas born there?) and vowed to take the first thing that popped into my head. "Two for the road". But there is 3 (almost 4 of us). So scratch that and try again. "On my way to everywhere....". Should it be "On OUR way" since I will more than likely blog about my family life? Nope, I will go with the first one. Well, the second one. But the first of the second.

So here I am and here's what happens "On my way to everywhere".