That’s how old I am. I can’t believe it. Last year I turned 40 and had a big bash of birthday. But 41 isn’t really a milestone so I didn’t plan much of anything.
Lucky for me, my husband and boys did. They were so fantastic and made me breakfast in bed. My husband set up the coffee maker on Thursday night and when my 6 and 7-year-old got up at 6 am Friday all they had to do was flip the switch. Not only did they serve coffee with the perfect amount of milk, but they made toast with butter.
It would been a beautiful scene if I hadn’t come home with a migraine from a MomsLA event the night before. I fell asleep with my mascara on and blown out hair. I woke up and could barely see my kids because my contacts were stuck to my eyes. My hair was matted up in a bouffant and I had raccoon eyes. But they didn’t care and neither did I.
We ended the day with a delicious cookies and cream birthday cake from Jamaica’s Cakes and a lovely group of friends. 41 seems just fine.