Yesterday was my birthday, 36th birthday to be exact, and it was awful. I guess I should go back a bit and explain my birthday curse. My birthday’s have always been bad, not all of them but a majority of them and always the ones that end in 6.

My 16th was traumatic. I had been dating this guy for several months, and in the weeks leading up to my birthday he kept telling me he had a huge surprise for me. We had a small get together planned with some of my friends, pizza and movies at my moms. We were all sitting there waiting on him to show up at 5:30. 5:30 rolled around and he didn’t show up. 6:30, and still not there. 7:00 and still no Joe. One of my friends knew his ex-girlfriend and she started making some calls. My big birthday surprise was that his girlfriend had come back, nope she wasn’t an ex she had just been away for a few months working. That’s right folks I got dumped in front of all of my friends and family on my 16th birthday.

My 26th was no better. My now ex-husband tried to throw me a surprise party, which Drew told me about before hand. We arrived at his parents house to a house full of our friends. Micah was only 6 months old at the time, and was very sick. He had a rare condition that caused him to stop growing and he would vomit uncontrollably for hours. Well, all was looking good for the party, until we walked in the door. Not 5 minutes after arriving Micah began vomitting. I spent the next 6 1/2 hours sitting in the back room on a quilt surrounded by towels and covered in puke while my party went on without me.

That brings us to this year. All in all the day was looking good. I had been sick all week but was finally feeling better. I had appointment at lunch for a facial and a make-over. The boys were with us that night, and all seemed right with the world. Geoff had ordered me a workout series on dvd that I wanted. I was happy. I was waiting for the bomb to drop though, it always does. Then at 3:00, right before time for me to get off of work, the boss calls me into his office to inform me that I was being let go. Thats right I was fired on my birthday. I started doing some snooping before I left and discovered that my boss and his son had been snooping on my computer and found my blog. They read the stuff I had previously written about work. Now it may just be a big coinky dink that he decided to fire me on the first day that I was back at work, but I think not. So anyway, another fine birthday for me.

Now like I said it’s not every birthday, and it’s not just the ones ending in 6 either. One year we went out to a nice expensive dinner and I got food poisoning, ooops make that twice that this happened. One year we went to a nice restaurant with friends, and the service was bad, the food was worse, the server actually bled in our food and had to get a replacement tray. This is a restaurant where service and food are normally wonderful, but we went on birthday… I think I am giving up my birthday, not because of the getting older stuff, but because every year on the 6’s it seems to get worse and worse and I can’t imagine what horrible thing awaits me on 46.

I had to go get some bloodwork done this morning, and I couldn’t eat before going. As soon as I finished I darted over to the Starbucks around the corner to grab a Venti caramel latte with extra caramel and whipped cream (first part of the yummy goodness), and since I was starving I decided to get a muffin. They didn’t have any decent looking muffins left so I opted for the blueberry coffee cake. OMG!!!!! I was in heaven with the first bite. The blueberries were plump and juicy, and it had a crumb topping, and the cake part of it was sweet and moist. I seriously wish I had known how good it was going to be because I would have gotten more. I wish there was a Starbucks closer to my house or atleast one that I could stop at on my way to work.

My doctor’s appointment yesterday went very well. I was a tadbit surprised when he informed me that he felt like I was no longer a level 4 bipolar, I had moved up to level 2. In case you aren’t familiar with bipolar disorder there are 5 levels, level 5 being the mildest and level 1 includes halucinating. He says he feels like I am level 2 because of the frequency of my mood swings and the variations in manic and depressive states. So I am back on meds now, and they are seriously kicking my butt today. I am so tired and groggy that I had a hard time keeping my eyes open this morning driving in to work.

It has been a very hectic week. Aegwyn has been sick again. We went to the pediatricians Monday, and of course the only thing they wanted to do was to stick her back on antibiotics. She has been going through this for over 5 months, and each time they just prescribe the antibiotics. She gets better while she takes them, then within a few days starts all over. This time I put my foot down, and demanded that they actually do their job and try to find out why she is staying sick. The doctor said the only thing she could do was to give her medicine and if we wanted we could make an appointment with the ENT. So, ok, why do we even go the pediatrician? They can’t or won’t order any tests. They never really give you an answer as to what is wrong with your child. Anyway, we took her the ENT yesterday, and he is sending us to see an allergy doctor. He was aggrevated that the pediatrician sent us to him to get the appointment, seeing as she was more than capable of picking up the phone to make the appointment with the allergy specialist. We have an appointment in a couple of weeks to get her tested for allergies, we have had to take her out of daycare because the doctor said that her allergies are causing her immune system to be weakened.

I am kind of glad that she will be getting some quality daddy time, but I am very sad to take her away from her friend at daycare. They are so cute. Now we have to find some activities that daddy can take her on to help keep her active and learning. Right now the only thing we have in mind for sure is gymnastics.

I can’t wait for tomorrow. My mom has agreed to babysit overnight so that Geoff and I can have a night out. I am so excited, this is the first time in 19 months that we will have been away from the kids. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my kids and enjoy spending as much time with all of them as possible, but I need a break.

My mom is coming over around lunch time so that we can get an early start. We have reserved a nice hotel room here in town that we will be checking in to as soon as we leave the kids with Grandma. The hotel has a nice pool, so we are going to spend the afternoon swimming and relaxing by the pool. Then we are off to Bridgestreet for a nice dinner, a walk, maybe stop into the lounge at the hotel to listen to some music, and then off to bed where I hope to get a full night of uninterupted sleep. Geoff doesn’t seem to think that I will be able to sleep since we will be away from home, and without the kids, and since I am used to getting up during the night anyway. I think he is wrong. I need to sleep, and after an afternoon of swimming I should be sufficiently exhausted. And who knows we may even go swimming again after dinner if it’s not too late and I am not too tired.

It is going to be so nice to have this time to spend alone with my husband. Doing grown-up stuff. Not having to be home at a certain time to put kids in bed or to relieve the babysitter. I won’t have to be up at the crack of dawn with a crying baby. We will be able to have a meal without a child complaining. I can’t wait.

As you know my job will soon be ending, and even if it wasn’t I really don’t want to stay here. So what do I do about this? I started filling out applications and submitting resumes almost a month ago. I have had a few interviews, but nothing is coming of it yet. This past Monday I finally broke down and went to see the people that I used to work for, thus selling my soul.

I know most people aren’t really familiar with what happened at this company, so let me fill  you in. I had worked for them for over a year and a half, basically killing myself to help keep them afloat. I usually worked through my lunch breaks, and went above and beyond what most people would have for the amount of money and crap I had to put up with. I never had a single complaint or problem while I was there. Out of the blue last July they fired me. I dropped a column from a spreadsheet during the printing process. That’s it I forgot to reset my print area, and got canned for it. This was made even worse because we had just found out that I was pregnant again, so I lost my insurance and income. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my job there, but the people are freaking nuts. Husband and wife owners who don’t agree on how the business should be run, construction workers with bad attitudes, general contractors with even worse attitudes and business practices… makes for one very stressed out me.

Well, since jobs aren’t seeming to pan out as fast as I would like right now, I went to see them and asked for my job back. I think they are going to make me an offer, but am I nuts for even thinking of going back to a place that treated me so bad and kept me so stressed out? Probably, but I think I can get them to hire me back for a dramatically increased salary. If not, I guess I will just keep looking because it isn’t worth the stress to work there without a ton of money coming from it.

We spent about half the day yesterday catching up on some cleaning, and hopefully will get the rest done today. I bought one of those little 3 drawer carts the other day to put in our bathroom since we have no vanity, no drawers, and no where to store anything. I spent about 2 hours yesterday cleaning up and organizing our bathroom (and no it wasn’t that dirty, just very cluttered). Geoff and I have a small half bath in our bedroom, and as I said it has no vanity, just a wall mounted sink (which we will be changing sometime in the near future). We have lived in this house 1 1/2 years and I still had a box of bathroom stuff just pushed under the sink. Whenever I needed something out of it I just dug through until I found it. The shelves above our toilet were a mess with everything just kind of shoved in, and the corner in the bathroom had become home for a suitcase. I had not intended for this to become its new home, but when we moved in I had packed some stuff in the suitcase and when we were unpacking and having a baby and dealing with life in general, no one ever moved it. Anyway, my make-up is now organized in a fashion where I can easily find anything I need, and it’s not overflowing into Geoff’s stuff. All of the miscellaneous bottles of stuff are neatly put away. And best of all, the suitcase is being moved to a closet. I am so proud of my organized bathroom, now I just wish the rest of the house would follow.