This is 38

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Yesterday I turned the big 3-8. A monumental one, for sure. I can finally rent an airplane, order bread at a restaurant, and vacuum recklessly . . . and I am going to start using the word "y'all."

The morning started out wonderfully. Jordis came into our bed at 7:15 am for a quick cuddle and then Shiloh got up with the kids to feed them and get them ready for school. And while I heard them talking (certain children in the house only have one volume and it's LOUD) and whatnot, at least I was still in my warm, cozy bed. And Lydia was working on her Kleenex art for me. Loved it.

Then the girls came in and sang and jumped on my bed and entertained me. Really entertained me. Jordis sang me a birthday song, a Valentine's Day song, and a Christmas song. Here's the birthday song:

I got up and got dressed and dropped Lydia off at school.  She is a late bird so she goes 45 minutes later than Elijah. Walked the dog and then I went to Costco all by myself. (Shiloh worked from home in the morning.) I had some upper back pain, but it was manageable. I am pretty certain it was a result of some hardcore vacuuming I did the day before.

At 11am I had a hair appointment. Got it highlighted. Shiloh brought me lunch. I picked up the kids from school. And then the back pain got significantly worse. The kind that says "Yeah kids, you can do whatever you want. Mama has to go lay down." Texted Shiloh. He came home early with roses and gave me some ice and sympathy.

I laid down for about 1 1/2 hours and took some advil which took the edge off the pain so I could rally for dinner with some girlfriends!

A few friends were late for dinner so I sat on one side of the table all by myself. And my other friends said it was because "This is an intervention."

(Heather, Marissa, HC)

Jenn (met through our kids' preschool and I went to high school with her husband) finally showed up all bitter that she had to spend a night away from their new pet guinea pig and wrote my card right in front of me. With a sharpie. I witnessed the whole thing. It was embarrassing, really. Then she shoved the wrapping from the card into a bag and said "Happy Birthday." It poked out the bag ever so nicely as to give the tissue paper effect so . . . I'm gonna pin that idea.

Jenn met Heather (who I've known since junior high) for the first time by accidentally confessing that her husband had a man crush on Heather's husband. Jenn had a vague recollection of who Heather's husband actually was at first and statements came out like "He's the one that didn't work at McDonald's after high school. He was a . . . a . . . he had some really good job or something. And he is really nice." Then she just summed it up with the whole man-crush thing. Keep it simple Jenn, man crush. We get it.

(right: Kheron, middle: 38-year-old, left: Jenn missing the guinea pig)

Kheron (friend from UCLA dance team) was one of the tardy ones because she was napping at Pixar where she naps works and then got all mad at me because I didn't tell her to order the chicken wrapped in phyllo dough. We worked it out, I think, because Kheron said she would give us all a special, behind the scenes tour of Pixar, as well as free passes to Skywalker Ranch including all the rides. And free passes to Disneyland. And a 1991 Miata.

We drank our iced tea. I had some dessert.

Heather had to leave first because she was uncomfortable with the man-crush situation and she has a three-month-old. And apparently, she was the only stable person on that side of the table because after a 45-minute discussion and number crunching, my geeky friends Marissa (next door neighbor who I first met at Hume Lake in 1996) and HC (met last year when Elijah was in the same class as her girls), figured out who owed what for the bill. Then then they started doing diagrams on the table about "resourcing" or something like that. HC just repeated the phrase "And then I cut it" and acted it out with her hands. Marissa then ripped the paper.

So me and Jenn and Kheron just started watching youtube videos. And we shut the place down. Three hours later. Every time I come home from an evening like this (twice a year), Shiloh has a really hard time understanding how a dinner could go for three hours. Hope this explains things a bit. It could have gone on for three weeks, but it wasn't Denny's so we had to leave.

This is 38 y'all!

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