So my birthday has come and gone. And as hard as it may be to believe, no one got me the pony. Or the house on Nantucket. Or George Clooney. I didn’t even get the Christian Louboutin pumps. I know! I was shocked too.
But as it turned out, my list was seriously lacking in imagination. And honestly, even if I’d put a whole lot more time into it, I’m not sure that I ever could have dreamt up the wonders that were the gifts I actually got.
Without further adieu, I present to you the best birthday presents EVER. Eat your heart out George. (I kid, I kid. Call me.)
Behold – the monogrammed potholder necklace, made by both girls – together, I’m told – and modeled by Katie.
Why a potholder on a necklace, you ask? Don’t worry, I was once similarly uninformed. But of course I now know that one needs her potholder around her neck so as to keep track of it while cooking. Duh.
It breaks my heart to think of all of the potholders that tragically went missing – such sadly preventable losses.
And there’s my initial right there on it, so that it won’t be confused with any other potholder necklaces in my kitchen. See it? It’s an ‘M’. Ya know, for Mama. Right.
Have I mentioned Katie’s label maker? We’ve got my sister to thank for that one. Thanks, Jess. (Yes, my sister’s name is Jess too, long story.)
Anyway, remind me sometime to tell you the story about the evening that Brooke followed me around all night, pointing at my rear, cracking up and saying “BUTT” again and again and I had no idea why until bedtime when I took off my shorts and found that my tush had been a victim of my older daughter’s covert labeling campaign. Yeah, that one was a doozy.
Oh, or the time that Katie wasn’t feeling well and I walked into her room to find her asleep in bed with a label stuck across her forehead that read “SICK KID – DO NOT DISTURB.”
Yup that’s my girl. Makes a mama so proud.
Wait, where was I? It had something to do with me wearing Louboutin’s while George Clooney rode up on a pony to hand me the keys to my new home on Nantucket, right? No?
Oh yeah, birthday. Sorry.
OK, so as if the monogrammed potholder necklace wasn’t enough, Katie also made me a pot of (homemade) Smelly Goody Scrubby Stuff.
I love scrubs. I’ve even made my own scrub. I don’t doubt that those of you who know me well find the preceding line somewhat hard to believe, but I swear, I really have. Katie has watched me mix raw sugar and coconut oil into body scrub. But she thought she’d add her own twist to it. No fun to do it like Mama, right? Of course right.
So she used rock salt, olive oil, cinnamon and lemon-scented essential oil. And I gotta tell ya, it really does smell quite, well, goody. However, because I like you, I’m going to tell you the following.
If your kid decides to give you smelly goody rock salt scrub stuff for your birthday, do not – I repeat, do NOT use it right after shaving your legs. Particularly if said child is inclined to stand outside your shower door watching your face and asking if you really, really love it.
Finally, a fabulous present from Luau.
A digital photo frame for my desk at work so that I can play a slideshow of my beautiful girls all day long.
When I told him that I absolutely, positively love it and can’t wait to get it up and running he said, “Um, yeah, it’s exactly what you asked for.”
Details, details. I also asked for a pony, babe. Trust me, we don’t always get things just because we ask for em. Besides, it was a long time ago and I don’t have much room left in my brain. I’d completely forgotten about it, making for a lovely surprise. The benefits of losing one’s mind.
Last but not least, there was this. The one thing that I asked Brooke for on my birthday I got over and over and over again throughout the day, and even (as in the photo below) into the next day.
A birthday hug.
No, Virginia, it does not get any better than that.
So perhaps George will show up next year with the keys to the summer house, the pony and the shoes. I really don’t care. For now, I’ve got everything I need right here.