Dear Elli,
This past Friday was my birthday. My 31st birthday. It was a great day. Let me tell you why.
When I came into your room and woke you up, the first words out of your mouth were, "Happy birthday Mommy!". You are only 3, but you remembered, and you were almost as excited as if it were your own birthday.
I'm proud of that, because it means that you are learning to care for others and take joy in their special days. You are learning that giving is just as great as receiving. And it is.
I went off to work and had a great day there, too. I don't talk much about work when we are home together, but that's only because we are so busy with other things. However, you know I love my career because I tell you so. It is important that you know, so that you will grow up knowing that you can, and should, love what you do, too.
So anyway, when I came to pick you up from Grandma Donna's after a most fabulous work day, you greeted me at the door with a large bowl. It seems you caught the dreaded norovirus for the second time this winter, and spent the previous hour puking your brains out. Shit. On my birthday? How dare the virus attack my baby on February 8th!? The nerve!
Once I got you situated in the car (with your bowl), we went home with plans to not eat anything (at all) for dinner. Instead, you took a nice warm bath and proceeded to puke a few more times before Daddy took over.
You see, Mommy is a freak about puking. It terrifies me in a way that is beyond normal, and I quite literally could have a nervous breakdown over it. Thank God for your Daddy. He takes it in stride and relieves me of my duties so that I am not committed to an asylum.
So, although this most horrifying illness happened to you on my birthday, I was reminded of how lucky I am to have your Daddy. I would certainly be certifiably insane if he wasn't here, with us, in the trenches, every day. I'm lucky, and so are you.
Between the puking episodes and me running downstairs to hide from more puking episodes, your Daddy gave me my gifts from both of you. Two books. "Adult books" are what you call them because they don't have pictures. This in itself is hilarious because it insinuates that Mommy reads porn. I don't (because I am far too boring and tired for so much excitement.) However, the term cracks me up anyway.
To many people, receiving two books is not that exciting. However, I am not many people. As you already know, I love books almost as dearly as I love people. Your Daddy taking the time to go to a bookstore and pick out two books is absolutely amazing to me. I love him, and most of the time I don't deserve him.
So, the moral of this weird story is that my birthday was great, even though we didn't do anything extravagant or exciting. (And even though you brought images of the little girl from Exorcist to mind during your vomiting sessions and I will most likely have nightmares for weeks.).
No matter any of that. I have the greatest little girl in the world, the greatest husband in the world, the greatest career (for me) in the world, and therefore the greatest life in the world. I would be well served to acknowledge this more often than once a year. This, the beginning of my 32nd year, I will try to improve upon.
I love you, and thank you for a great birthday!
Mommy
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