That was nice.
You know what wasn't nice?
You know when your two year old starts crying and moaning for no apparent reason? Then you try to console and check for fever or sharp objects impaling them, and when you can't figure it out after an hour or so and you sort of feel like starting to cry too, but you can't because more than sad you feel really annoyed.
And that lasts until around 4:00 AM.
Then after you have successfully placed your newly appointed least favorite child back in her crib, and you've peed because it's difficult to make it through the night without doing that at least once since birthing three children, and you settle in to bed and let your mind race a bit about how you're going to make Brussels sprouts and kale look good and sell a lot of Pampered Chef. Then you wonder if you should buy Tom's new wedge booties, and then suddenly it's 4:30 AM and you think you might scream.
(By the way, you should totally buy Tom's new wedge booties, you would know that if you weren't so tired.)
It seems annoying, but then 5:00 AM comes around and your five year old wakes you up from your thirty minutes of sleep to let you know he's going to go poop, because this is the type of information you must be involved in when you hold the title "Mom."
You may, or may not, start to poke your slightly pointy toenail in to your husband's leg to see if he wakes up from the sharp pain, because even though there is no reason for him to be up other than to share your pain, that sort of seems like a good reason at that point.
(You may be more mature than I am, if so skip the previous paragraph, I never claimed to be mature.)
Then it's 5:15 and there are strange noises coming from your bathroom so you have to get of bed to investigate. Then you feel filled with rage because the strange noises are actually just your five year old making funny sounds because he's "bored" pooping and wants you to talk to him about ninjas, which makes your head explode because you hate all things ninja with every fiber of your being at this point.
Then you decide that perhaps God just doesn't want you to sleep because he obviously forgot that you turn mentally unstable without at least six hours of sleep, or simply wants you to be off your rocker all day in an exercise of personal and spiritual growth that is just going to leave you feeling pissed.
So you get up and think that this would be a good time for one of Oprah's gratitude journal entries to make you feel better by remembering how blessed you are in life.
Are you following me?
But, then you remember you didn't get enough sleep for that crap.
So that's sort of how things started for me this morning.
The good news is that the day ended with this birthday celebration for my friend Jessica.
(Suzanne, I know you don't like that you aren't facing the camera on this one, but I had to go with the three out of four of us looking at the camera and you have that hip new haircut to carry you through any photo.)
Oh, also good news is that none of us are Shannon Doherty, aka "Brenda Walsh," whom I just saw starring in an ad for schoolplease.com where she had to act out all the trials of attending an actual school. That was depressing.
Dylan would be so embarrassed.
I hope she has a gratitude journal.