Happy Birthday early...

I received a message on my answering machine from one of my best friends who lives in Texas wishing me an early happy birthday because tomorrow she is going to be in the hospital. My first thought when I heard this was, oh my gosh, I wonder why she's going to be in the hospital. She never tells me anything! So of course I had to call her back and ask. Seems there was nothing to worry about. She is in nursing school and will be at the hospital to learn.

Is she trying to give me a heart attack at the young age of 32. That's right, I say young! Matt likes to tell me otherwise. Sometimes I feel old, especially when I'm dragging at 11:00pm at night. Or when I'm lying on the couch, moaning about how my back is killing me. But damn if I will succomb to the aging process. I will lose this stomach that's bulging out of my pant waist. I will make my body more limber. I will complain less and laugh more. I will relax. Damnit, I will relax. I will!

This will be a year of energy, a year of laughter, a year of friendships new and old, a year to behold in the memories of when I am old.

Happy Birthday to me - one hour and 19 minutes from now.

Sorry

I haven't written in a month! Explanation be told - I started back to work. My almost 5 month old is now in day care three days a week. I miss him but I know he's going to get so much out of being at the center just like his big sister has. This week he's got a runny nose that all the other infants have. Joy.

Allison has been very clingy to mommy these days. I don't know if it's because she's transitioned to the next class at the day care or what. Some days her closeness to me is annoying but other times it is so nice. We snuggled on the couch last night. These are times I want to treasure and remember when she's being a pill.

Neighbor

So our next door neighbor has us wondering if he's smoking pot or something. He's a separated husband (assuming), no children, firefighter. When we are outside sometimes we will his stereo blasting Vanessa Williams' "The Sweetest Days" and LInda Ronstadt and James Ingram's "Somewhere Out There". Tell me, what kind of guy listens to this kind of music? And since he is a firefighter, he usually works 72 hours and then has a few days off or something like that, so when he is home, he vacuums every single day. Now, our neighbor across the street told me that he has a drug problem and was hauled off to the station one time a month ago. I didn't realize she would be such a gossip. Okay with me. Anyway, and his wife who owns the coffee shop we pass by every time we go to the store, her car hasn't been in the driveway for a couple of months now and her dog hasn't been out in the yard either.

As Matt and I sit in our Adirondack chairs on our back patio at night, we whisper that he's a gay, pot smoker who is wanted by someone, which is why he always talks on his cell phone in the front driveway.