Another year

I have to confess that I was rather apathetic about my birthday this year. Not a big one, nor a mile stone. In the weeks running up to it I had been struggling with life in general.

The morning of my birthday was the same as many others. My husband left for work at dawn but when I woke he had left me 2 gifts and a card on his pillow. There was obviously a lot of thought behind the gifts but sadly my husband struggled with sizing (very unusually if I am honest, he normally gets things like that right) so although I loved my gifts sadly they needed to be changed. A shower and getting ready for work later and I had no choice but to wake the smalls. Both, after a moments remembrance presented me with a carrier bag and proceeding to unwrap my presents for me so they could proudly show me the things that they had chosen for me - a box of chocolates, a lollipop with my name on it, a key ring which was also tiny Wellington boots and a frog for the garden with springs on its arms and legs. It looked like they had a massive amount of fun choosing it all. The most amazing items however were the 2 hand made cards in which the smalls had tried to write their names. I will treasure them.

My day was a normal one - breakfast, take the smalls to pre school and then go to work. I did the standard 'cakes and savouries' for the office and went about my day.

Coming home was where things changed. I picked the smalls up from after school club and we decided on fish and chips for tea - fish me, battered sausage for them and we ate them in the garden, in the sunshine. whilst we were eating my parents arrived for the weekend and brought with them cake - fairy castle cake complete with towers made from ice cream cones. It was a cake that mum made for me when I was a little girl and loved and my smalls also thought it was brilliant.

The weekend was planned to be enjoyed - Saturday was a day for me. Mum and I went shopping. I did spend most of the time sorting out things for the smalls but I also managed a couple of bits for me and the day out was lovely. Sunday was open day at a local farm. It was manic - the sun was shining and the weather was glorious so lots of other families had decided to do the same thing. There was tractor rides, sheep shows, sausage and butter making plus a variety of craft and local produce stalls as well as loads for the smalls to do.

By Sunday evening, when Andrew got home from work, I was shattered. My box of Thorntons was so inviting but I was so tired I went to bed early. Nearly a week later I can look back on what was a good way to mark another year.