I had this wonderful post planned for Max's birthday today.
It was all about how far we've come together, how she's grown, what she was like as a baby...all that good natured happy birthday type jazz.
But then the day began, and at this point I'm not in the mood to celebrate Maxine's awesomeness. WHATSOEVER.
I stretched and yawned in bed. Sunlight streamed through my window onto my legs and my adorable red and white striped socks...I smiled excitedly at the wonderful sunny omen for Maxine Jane's Birth Day.
Then from her bedroom came a hacking cough and a frighteningly shaky scream:
"IT'S MY BIRTHDAY MOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!! (hack hack cough cough) GET THE BABY OUT OF MY WOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!"
Well good morning to you too, Birthday Princess.
Her siblings and I entered her room a few minutes later to tell her Her Birth Story, which is a tradition in our family. She was not pleased at being bothered by us and our loving embraces. She begrudgingly listened to the story and interjected sweet comments the whole way through.
"Grandma said I was a fat baby. You say I was small. Someone's a liar."
"20 hours isn't that long. You can count to that much, I think."
"Why didn't you just push me out then?"
She then stayed hidden from the morning's activities alone in her room for almost an hour. When she finally arrived downstairs she was wearing her meanest scowl (there are many levels of scowl for Max...ranging from the mildly annoyed scowl to the ready to cannibalize the natives scowl) and demanded that since it was her birthday she be allowed to eat...
"...black and white cookies all day long. With milk. Or juice. Can I dip black cookies in juice?"
I informed her that she wasn't allowed to have cookies for breakfast, even for her birthday. This was obviously not an acceptable outcome for Her Royal Highness for she threw herself down (which she hasn't done in a year) and hit her head off of the ground. I put her in time out for throwing a fit, during which she head butted me and made me feel dizzy for a moment.
So instead of time out I put her in bed. I released her after 30 minutes of screaming and gagging and crying.
She told me she wanted to watch a movie, so I put one on for her, gave her some string cheese and a cup of apple juice and made her a comfy nesty on the floor. I was called to the room two minutes later by a panicked Elijah. Max and Elijah had piled up the two baskets that hold the stuffed animals on top of a giant pile of library books and a kids sized coloring table. Then Max had helped Elijah climb to the top of this monstrosity and left him there, precariously balancing at the top, calling for me. Despite his distress, she had returned to her movie and was comfortably snacking and watching her movie.
So Happy Birthday You Scamp. It's only 10:15 AM...I wonder how much more joy she has in store for me today?