1) Yes it is my birthday. Thank you for the birthday wishes in the comments section of my most recent post.
2) No, I am not 29. I am 29 plus an eighth grader.
3) Hannah gets very excited about all birthdays, because, a) she is a loving and generous child; and, b) she is ever-optimistic that there might be leftover cake and presents that just maybe, possibly, could be for her.
Just like most days, I was folding laundry this morning when Hannah woke up.
I heard her little voice croak, “Mom?” The tone indicated that she was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Yes, Hannah?” I smiled, anticipating enthusiastic birthday wishes and multiple bear hug-tackles from my 47-pound blonde.
She paused to yawn. I beamed, already feeling the unabashed affection about to come my way. Then, Hannah asked, with tremendous love and concern: “Did the Red Sox win?”
She did come in soon after that to present me with my first homemade, pop-up birthday card of the day. And I did get hugs and kisses, from all of my kids, but not until after they had properly “WOO HOO!!!”d and proclaimed relief and excitement regarding the Big Game 1 Victory.
I admire that level of commitment. And they will get cake.