We signed the papers last night. I didn't think I would be so emotional, but I was. We moved out in September last year, the house has been on the market for 7 months, and I have only been back a handful of times. Not a day went buy that I didn't make a comment about getting rid of it or say a prayer that it would be bought, but when they called for me to come sign the papers I cried. 115 Marielle Lane. This was my first real home of my own, of my family. The home I moved in to as a single woman, the home I married Tom in, the home I brought two beautiful little boys to. We planted the flowers, we put in the steps, down the side of the house is the perenial flower garden that Tom dug for me my first Mother's day and where I planted the new ones they got me for Mother's day every year since then. I made some very special friend in this neighborhood, and so did the boys. Will they remember living here?

Don't get me wrong I love my new house, it is perfect for where our family is now in life. But it was my home...and I cried.

I love my birthday. I think everyone should! Your birthday is be nice to you day. We grownups seem to take less and less time to be nice to ourselves as the years go by. Several weeks ago I realized that my 35th birthday fell on a friday night. And as much as I love my husband and kids the first thing that came to my mind was "girl's night out!". And what fun it was! There were balloons and cake (with edible glitter!) and chocolate covered strawberries and enchaladas and crocs and some very generous prezzies and croppin' and most of all my girlfriends! I felt like a little girl again! I could not have asked for a better way to spend my birthday! You all made me feel special and loved, and I cherish each one of you! For axe-murders you sure have big hearts!

I am having one of those days, those days where you have all sorts of deep, meaningful and important things to say and you can't seem to get any of them out.

The type where you want to tell those friends how truly special they are and how much they mean to you and bring to your life.

The days where you want to tell your children how proud you are of them and that there is no one or anything that could replace them in your life.

The days where you want to tell your husband how much you love him and that no matter how many times you have to remind him that you need him to change the light bulbs in the other house, you love him the same.

The days where you want to call your parents and tell them that you now get it, you understand the lessons they were trying to teach you when you were small and in return you told them that you hated them.

And none of these things that make the tightness in your chest come out, today the feeling are there but the words never come. I think I will go to the grocery store now. We need milk.

WAIT YOUR TURN! How many times have we heard that? It is hard to be 3. You go with the flow (mostly) and get dragged around, overlooked, and wait for your turn to do all those things that you see others doing.

This morning in the car my 3 year old told me that today he is going to play with his big brother's toys. He does not want to play with his own, he wants to play with William's. On Tuesday & Thrusdays Patrick spends the day with my parents, so instead of playing with his toys there, he is playing with William's.

How hard it must be to be him, with 4 years between them there are so many things that William does that Patrick is not allowed to do. This weekend was packed full of activities and Patrick got left out of quite a few of them. No play dates, no birthday party, even when we went bowling someone helped him. Don't get me wrong, it is not always like that, but it happens more and more often. Patrick's "turn" is years away...

Taking a trip in the car to the scrapbook store with mommy apparently did not fill the void, so today he is taking his stand! He is playing with those treasured big boy toys that when present, William does not like him to touch unless he has special permission and is in general favor with his big brother.

I guess even a 3 year old had his limits. And today he took his turn.