Feeling loved

Thank you for all the happy birthday wishes. I am feeling loved. Facebook has facilitated people remembering birthdays all over the world, and it is pretty awesome. I used to pride myself on remembering birthdays, but I don't think it's bad NOT to remember them. I have also forgotten some important ones and important dates over the years, and it doesn't diminish affection I have for the person. Now that I have kids, I know how my mom must feel on my birthday. What joy to have a new, healthy, tiny little baby. But, now the baby is 39 and sometimes ornery. The baby pictures are good reminders of the sweet and unadulterated feelings. But, I guess despite years of wrinkle-causing life, there is always unconditional love. And it's mutual.

Going to wear my Latin dancing shoes around the house all day today. Going to make a cake with Hank after we get home from the J playground after school. Bought him a bucket of sand/pea gravel toys to play with while we are out and about. Charlie did well in the sleepywrap on Friday when we went to the J playground. I am also going to organize my hair and toothcare drawer, and if I have some spare time, I am going to do 6 of my fingernails. I have a client at 10 am at the house. She is a very sweet lady.

Hank, Brad, and Charlie are still asleep. Surprising. Hank had a chocolate milk/yellow cup crisis about 4 am. I got the chocolate milk, and Brad was trying to calm the beast. He finally calmed down and fell asleep after I insisted Brad was tired and Brad held him. My analysis was Hank wanted to be held, but can't put together milk and comfort, so he yells for yellow cup/chocolate milk. We have been validating his want verbally, but not indulging the cup change. Eventually, he calms down. I remember feeling frustrated and misunderstood at points in early childhood. I hope he is feeling somewhat understood. It's seems to be hard to find a balance between acknowledging what is important to him in the moment and not creating undesirable habits or making life more challenging for ourselves. Progress, not perfection!