I had a really nice birthday. Even little Ruth slept well the night before. Wait, no, I take that back. No she didn’t.

I remember thinking, “Happy Birthday to me” at 3am and wondering if little miss fussiness would settle down so I could get some sleep. Those days are gone.. not the staying up late apparently, but definitely the crashing until lunch.

It was a hard night.

But around 7:30, I stumbled into the living room to lay on the couch for any zzz’s I could get and realized that R was fixing me breakfast. He had only a few minutes before going to work, so I grappled for some toothpicks to keep my eyelids open and shuffled to the table.

This is R’s dream breakfast. No color. I grabbed my nearest fake plant, blew off the dust, and took a shot. I cannot not have color on (or near, at least) my plate.

And then I saw the card that had “Yo necesito un Caroline” on it. This harkens back to my days working in the insurance industry, having file incoming claims. I was on the spanish-speaking queue. Remember when I made a complete and utter fool of myself on that queue with the spanish language, as well as telling my class in college how delicious penis pasta is? No? Read my blog post on it, here.

Well, I joined the company as they were just implementing that group of employees (side note: I accidentally wrote ‘groupo’), meaning there weren’t very many of us. Anyway, I was on a call with a nice older lady and we got disconnected. Later, a co-worker came up and said that he finished the claim, but she kept asking for ‘Caroline’. That she needed Caroline. I was the only Carolyn that spoke spanish there, so he figured it was me.

After telling R this, he starting saying it every now and then. He added ‘un’ which doesn’t really make sense, but I never corrected him because I thought it was cute.

Long story short, the card made me smile.

We made plans to meet up for lunch that afternoon. He originally offered to bring food home, but I reminded him of our pact. Our “we will not be prisoners of Ruth” pact, and decided to go out.

I have to get used to taking her places. I don’t want to be scared or anxious or stressed out. Just go with the flow and take your time, is what I tell myself. So far it’s worked pretty well.

We had a nice lunch and showed her off to his coworkers that were meeting at the local coffee shop. We didn’t stay long, because I needed to get home and clean. We were having company that night!

R , T and their two little ones came over with food (and drinks and plates and utensils and napkins – everything!) in hand.

I was taught how to use the Moby wrap and little S helped me blow out the candles. This wasn’t the last we’d see of his mom, though…

Because she was starring in the local production of ‘Little Shop of Horrors” that following night!

Again, I took a deep breath and said “I am not a prisoner. I am not a prisoner.” Now, this was a tricky decision for us. It’s almost like bringing a baby to the movie theatre (don’t worry, that won’t be us) and I won’t be hauling Ruth to a major production of Hair anytime soon, but I felt like this venture wasn’t going to leave me crying & depleted from disgruntled patron’s dirty looks.

We sat literally right next to the door for a quick exit and I made sure to leave (only twice!) before she started to get fussy. Success was had, my friends.

I did miss the first scene that R was in because Ruth was hungry, but caught the rest. The production was very funny and I was so proud of our little theatre.

Afterwards, Ruthie and I attacked the actors (mostly R) and got our photos with her. Ruth was really impressed as you can tell. She was just trying to act cool, I think. Don’t let this photo lie, though. Literally as soon as we got into the car, the cries started and only stopped after ten minutes of a particular Weezer song on repeat.

Saturday we slept on and off, forgoing the Apple Festival in favor of rest and relaxation. Next year, Ruth. Apples galore.

My brother-in-law and his wife asked us over Saturday night along with another couple to play dominoes. Lots, and I mean lots, of singing was sung, laughing was laughed, and jokes were joked.

A cake was brought out, and let’s all take a moment to see how bright that darn cake was. Seriously, how old am I??

I managed to blow them all out though. I attribute that ability to my labor breathing practice. I knew those 12 hours would come in handy!

Thank you all for a really nice birthday. Hopefully my wish will come true: getting a good night’s sleep.