Dirty Thirty

Today, I am 30. It feels surprisingly similar to 29.

Whoever coined the term “dirty thirty” obviously had kids – my third decade is already filled with dirt, mud, spit-up and baby poop. And it has been an amazing birthday weekend. Because this is my first birthday as a mom.

The one thing I wanted most was for G.G. to meet the muppets. So the weekend began with an auspicious start. On Sunday, the muppets had a Welcome Home shower. How many kids are lucky enough to attend their own baby shower?

I was slightly nervous about what to wear; I haven’t had many opportunities to dress up in the past six months. And since the muppets arrived, my body has decided to rearrange its weight carriage so it’s always a fun surprise to see if an outfit will fit on any given morning. I chose a little black dress – seemed safe, can’t go wrong with that. The first dress fit on the first try. Success! I matched the dress with some fabulous patent leather peep-toe pumps and completed the outfit with the Tahitian pearls Jon got for me on our honeymoon. (Little things excite me these days.)

I strutted into the nursery to make the muppets even cuter. (I know, very hard to do.) I asked the boys what they wanted to wear. The selection process was based on which outfit elicited a smile and giggle. Caden picked out a pair of khaki pants with a very preppy sweater, and Logan chose a pair of plaid overalls. We were ready to go.

I felt good. Our last attempt at a baby shower didn’t go so well. I concluded that weekend on lockdown for my final hospital stint, before we began our adventure with preemies. But this weekend, I was healthy, but so much more importantly – the muppets are healthy. Even their cold from the previous week has completely cleared up.

I scooped up Logan and headed down the stairs. It was time to play the music, time to light the lights. Time to meet the muppets on the muppet show tonight. Caden and Logan were ready for their close-up.

Blarf.

No sooner did I hit the bottom step, then Logan arfed on me. Did you know baby arf is white? And have I mentioned I’d chosen to wear a black dress? Well that was no longer going to happen. Logan looked up at me and giggled, his outfit was still perfectly clean. I whirled around in my no longer applicable patent leather peep-toe pumps and headed back up the stairs to find outfit the second.

Once we (meaning I) had changed into a non-pukey outfit, the muppets, GrammaJ and G.G. loaded ourselves into the car and headed off to the shower. If I may take this moment to be uber shmoopy, I am really blessed to have so many wonderful friends and family who came out to a doubles-themed shower: Doublemint gum, Twix and a delicious menu with two options for every course.

Since GrammaJ and G.G. had to head back to the badlands early this morning, we decided to celebrate last night. G.G. suddenly exclaimed that she couldn’t find the gift she’d gotten me. She retraced her steps. Our black lab Scout chose that moment to slink out into the garage. Well, drat. Jon headed out after the dog, flashlight in hand, to attempt to locate whatever Scout had dragged out. We found half a bite of the card. It will certainly be an evening to remember.

My dog ate my birthday present.

I was sad to say goodbye to GrammaJ and G.G. this morning. It was a fast-paced entertaining weekend and I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present than to see G.G. enjoy muppet smiles and twin giggles.

So today, I am 30. And tonight, I will spend a very chill birthday evening surrounded by my five boys. Pure bliss… Thirty’s going to be a good year.

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4 responses to “Dirty Thirty

  1. A perfect weekend – “blarf”, dog theft and all– what a great beginning to your next decade. Certainly a truly blessed couple of days for me to share with my wonderful, adorable “honeys” – and enjoy the beautiful belated shower, as well as wishing Happy Birthday to the amazing Tricia! G.G.

  2. Pingback: Doggie Dilemma | Double Trouble

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