Happy Birthday Scientist Genius Brother!

Twenty-Six years ago today one of my favorite people on the planet was born - after begging my parents for a baby brother or sister for years and years, I finally got my wish.  I still remember the middle of the night ride to Grandmother's house where I got dropped off before Marvelous Mom and Dad went to the hospital.  And in the morning, Grandmother woke me up by saying "You have a baby brother!".  I went to school floating on a cloud of happy and told everyone I saw about my new brother.

Wasn't he adorable?

It's truly amazing that he ever learned to walk because I loved to hold him and carry him around. 

Even when I was a WILDLY obnoxious adolescent, I still loved my baby brother.  As long as he didn't set foot in my bedroom.  By the time he was three, I had him trained to put his toes right on the line between the hallway carpet and my bedroom carpet and say "Taty, I come in?".  Poor kid, I was such a brat.

This is one of my favorite pics of him with our cousin Sunshine when they were both going through a toothless phase.  When I look at pictures of him as a little boy I see Thing 2 in his eyes.  Thing 2 is a lucky boy to look like his Uncle!

And while he lives far away now and we don't get to see each other nearly as often as I would like, Scientist Genius Brother is still my best friend.  I'm so proud of all he has accomplished in his chosen profession (Chemistry - barf!) and of what a kind, loving man he is.  If my boys grow up to be like their Uncle then I know husband and I will have done a good job.

Happy Birthday Bro, I love you to the moon and back!

Thirty-Five

On Saturday, March 7th, I turned thirty-five years old.

*Excuse me while I breathe into this paper bag for a moment.*

Um, hellloooo...how the hell did THAT happen?  You know, how did I become a GROWN-UP?  Wasn't it just yesterday that I was rockin' the grunge look with my flannel shirts and torn up jeans?  Or getting a tattoo for my twenty-third birthday?  You'd have done it too if you were driving a minivan and changing three kids diapers at twenty-three!  I had to do something to act my age!

But now acting my age is not wearing mini-skirts.  Keeping my hair color in the 'naturally occurs in nature' range.  Having the bag-boy at the grocery store call me 'ma'am'.  I AM NOT A FUCKING MA'AM!  Wait a minute, I am a ma'am.  I'm old enough to be a ma'am.  I hardly ever get carded when I order a drink.  I'm getting GRAY HAIR, crow's feet and crooked toes!

So let this be a notice to the world - I am no longer having any birthdays.  This is the last one.  EVER.  I refuse to ever grow any older than thirty-five.

After all, my mother is only thirty-nine...

And Cousinbff isn't going to get any older either.  She's gonna have to stop at thirty-three.

And we will all live happily ever after...

The end.