My birthday today was, for the most part, like any other day. I wouldn’t have even acknowledged it except that others were kind enough to send me birthday greetings and wishes online and via text messaging, and my judge and former court reporter gave me cards and a gift on Friday. I had not even realized my birthday was already upon us except for my friends’ reminders, and I didn’t even know how old I was turning. The stepkidlet actually had to do the math on her calculator last night. All I remember was that I gave birth when I was 35 so since Allie is 1.5 years old…and that was as far as I’d gotten.

Speaking of my judge’s card… on Friday after lunch, I returned to my desk to see the card envelope sitting there with my name on it. Since we were busy picking a jury for a criminal trial, it was almost an hour later before I was able to get to the card. I opened the envelope and pulled out a glittery Snoopy card, then opened it slowly as cut-outs of presents and ribbons popped up on the inside of the card. I opened it further to appreciate the 3-D effects, and suddenly it burst into song, VERY LOUDLY. I freaked out and clamped the card shut, afraid to look up. My judge upholds a very professional, formal tone in his courtroom, and here I was in front of multiple attorneys, a criminal defendant, approximately 35 prospective jurors, and an audience full of spectators. I looked at the card envelope again. Nope, he definitely did not leave a post-it note on the envelope warning me not to open the card while we’re in session. Looking around, it didn’t seem like anyone had reacted to the few notes that came screaming out of the card. Even so, my heart was pounding. Thanks for giving me a heart attack for my birthday, judge.

This morning, Mr. W juiced some fruit (apple, papaya, pear, grape, cantaloupe, lemon) and veggies (romaine lettuce, kale, beet, broccoli, ginger, spinach, cucumber) in his new juicer and we had that as a pre-breakfast treat, then I made Allie some healthy mini pancakes (1 ripe banana, 2 eggs, 1/4 cup oatmeal, that’s it) and fed her breakfast. The morning was hot so we pretty much stayed inside, although we did let her play in the backyard for a bit. My parents came over during Allie’s nap, and when Allie woke up, the 5 of us went to Rose Canyon Cantina for an early dinner. Allie wolfed down her Mexican food (shrimp ceviche, bits of my mom’s chicken enchilada, some of my red Spanish rice, black beans, grilled fish, and spinach enchilada, some of of Mr. W’s refried beans and green Mexican rice) but was uncooperative for photos. There’s one in which she looks like she’s plotting my demise. My social networking friends theorize that she’s just crabby from being out in near triple-digit temperatures.

After dinner, we stopped by a man-made lake that had a nice walking path and park-like setting all the way around it so Allie could run around. Her mood was much better at the park.

My parents are overly protective and paranoid about Allie’s safety, but would let her do stuff like pick up duck poop. :/ Baby wipes come in handy for times like this.

I’ve never seen her so sweaty that her hair stringed up almost like she’d just gotten out of a bath, until today. She did say “hot” as soon as we stepped out of the air-conditioned restaurant (even tho we ate on a shaded patio), but didn’t have a complaint after that. She drank a ton of water, though, and we had to stop by a Little Caesar’s Pizza to buy a couple of cold bottled waters (which she chugged) to refill her sippy cup before we headed home.

All day long, we were working on her to get her to say “Happy birthday, mama.” In the below video, my mom was supposedly recording Allie on her iPhone, but turned out she didn’t get any of it. My dad luckily was standing by video-recording on his camera.


At the end of day, when I was nursing her before bed, she was dozing off when I pulled her away to switch sides. She sat up drowsily with a sigh, looked up at me with sleepy eyes, and said, “Happy mama.” Then she smiled sweetly and proudly, like we shared a private joke. I smiled and kissed her on her cheek. It’s not the full “happy birthday,” but it’s shrewdly accurate as an observation.