For those of you keeping track

No pictures, because now my Sororal Default Photographer's camera is broken, too. So from an email I just sent to my mamas list:

"Post bedtime -- she cried some, then said she had a whole stack of books for me to read if I wasn't going to give her milk. So I read, she asked for just a teeny bit, just one more week, and I said, "No." It's sad for her, but happy for me. Does that make me a bad parent? I don't think so, just a tired tired mama.

So she lay down and I held her hand and she went to sleep. She also didn't nap today and played really hard and had a lot of sugar -- it was an over the top kind of day. I'm sure we have some rough days and nights ahead of us, but heck, I have those regularly with the others and they've all been weaned.

I'm very tired and I have a whack of work to do, of course."

This isn't the usual "my child's birthday" posts from me or any blogger. I'd love to be more in the "I remember you when you first wriggled into this world" kind of place, but I'm not. My children are miracles, but they are miracles that cost me an awful lot right now. I'm delighted that this one is three, and I'll be delighted when she's thirty-three too. There are times I want to throw myself, heart and soul, into the future and be past this tough spot. But today, her brother held her and looked through her new book and repeatedly said, "It's Randolph the red-nosed reindeer," and she sang, over and over and over again, "Strummin' on the Old Man Joe," and my sister made me laugh really hard and I smiled at friends and made them laugh really hard and my good buddy worked on my sore back and made me yell. All in all, I'll take my life, sweet and sour, right now.

I'm still not happy about the work I have to do tonight, though. I'd rather be going to bed. Humpf.