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Yesterday was Jordyn’s birthday.  He turned 7.  His birthday made me think about my age more than my own ,probably because my husband said, “Him turning 7 so fast just means we are getting older just as fast.”  What every woman wants to hear.  How old we are getting.  I didn’t dwell on it long because when I turned thirty I pondered my age thoroughly.  Turning thirty is a milestone of sorts.  You can no longer blame the stupidity of your twenties yet you have enough life experiences to actually have a snippet of wisdom to offer others younger than you.  You see, I couldn’t dwell on turning thirty two because I want to save all my strength for when I turn forty.  I can only imagine the thoughts and emotions that will pop up.

Seeing Jordyn turn seven is a joy.  I can remember every minute of my labor and delivery all the way up until the morphine.  It’s a little fuzzy after that for a couple days - morphine and vicodin will do that to you.  I remember my hormones raging and how I didn’t immediately click into this blissful motherhood role I was embarking on.  Then, two weeks after I had him home I was rocking him back to sleep at about 3 a.m. when suddenly I was more awake than I had ever been before in my life.  I looked at him and thought to myself, “Look what you did.  You have this amazing little person that you created and now you have to make sure he grows up to be a man that you would be proud of.  I’m a mother.  I’m someone’s mother.  Oh damn, I’m someone’s mother.  Oh.  My.  God.  I’m someone’s mother.”  I sobbed by myself while holding him in that chair as if I had JUST given birth to him.  To look at him now, seven years later, with a newly lost tooth, interests in reading, sports and video games amazes me.  He’s becoming his own person and exploring things he enjoys.  Is he a perfect little angel?  No.  There a lots of times I want to ring his neck.  Yesterday wasn’t one of them.

This weekend I celebrated my 32nd birthday.  I had a great day with my family.  I woke up to the kids yelling, “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaapppy Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirthday Mom!!!”  They gave me some cards they made.  After we got dressed my husband and the kids took me to Dunkin Donuts for breakfast.  After that we had to go to the store from some medicine because I was sick.  You would think it would suck to be sick on your birthday but the combination of my good mood and good meds the hubby pumped me up with kept me going all day.  I had some sort of either upper respiratory infection or sinus infection.  At any rate despite the illness it was good.

Shortly after we got home my Mom surprised me by showing up at the house with my younger brother.  She was carrying a gift bag, two pizzas and a balloon.  She bought me some work out gear since I’ve been exercising, which has paid off because I started 2 weeks ago and have lost 3lbs so far.  Yay me!  She also made me a cooking apron to wear over my clothes because I constantly ruin shirts with all the cooking I do - must be all the grease from the fried foods I make.  I’m Puerto Rican, I can’t help the grease.

After the gift exchange we had to run to the store for some things.  When we got back my husband was making dinner.  He made chicken parm and pasta for all of us.  Then, they surprised me with a birthday cake.  It was a simple cake from our local grocery store.  Funny how I didn’t notice the fact that my name was spelled wrong until today when I went to upload the pictures onto my computer.  How did four adults miss that?  I have an excuse - I was highly medicated.  What’s everyone else’s?