Three years ago, Brad and I demanded a rain check for Christmas--we missed it because the stomach bug invaded our home.
Sadly, the same thing happened on my 38th birthday. I woke up feeling nauseated and spent the rest of the day wearing a path between my bed and the toilet. No family outing to Eastern Market for breakfast. No cards and cake. No time with my two sweet boys. No Palena. Instead, Brad spent the day caring for Mason while I laid in bed, miserable, feeling sorry for myself and missing them both.
The good thing is that a birthday is only a day. I still turned another year older. And today, I feel much better and am thankful for generally good health. Lord willing, the three of us will go to Eastern Market for breakfast next weekend, and Brad and I will dine at Palena in a month, or whenever we can get another reservation. We will eat my birthday cake today, and Mason will give me his little present. This year, today will be my birthday. That's right!
Now I'm praying that I don't regift my lovely birthday present of the stomach virus to my two sweeties (or anyone else).