I never liked Prime Numbers

Happy Birfday to Me. The Big 33. I have officially left my "early 30s" and entered the "mid 30s."

My gift to myself this year was a cold. Or allergies. It's too early to tell. I like to surprise myself that way.

Joelle gave me the gift of vomit at midnight. She likes to give gifts that are deeply personal and unique to her.

Brian got up early and made a huge breakfast for everyone (including Joelle -- who was fine after 'getting it all out' -- thank heavens). Some great friends have dropped by and brought treats and flowers and a VERY unique luggage tag (which I really need to scan and put up here -- but be warned that it may just make you pee your pants).

I started a list of "33 Things I have Learned in 33 Years." But Jaren likes to thwart all of my attempts at organization and I have NO idea where it is right now. Besides, I think I was only on number 18.

For my special day I am watching General Conference. As a kid I felt SO jipped (gypped? jypped?) when my birthday fell on conference weekend. I have vivid memories of my mother sitting in front of our TV, decorating my Raggedy Ann cake. Nothing says HAPPY BIRTHDAY to a six year old like watching men in suits talk on TV for hours. But today I am grateful for the chance to relax, be with my family, and not feel pressured to go do something fancy. I'm gonna sit here and eat cake and play Big Kahuna Reef on my computer. I would try to fold clothes and clean, but Jaren is not in bed. And he is at a stage where I get literally NOTHING done if he is around. He follows me around and un-does whatever I do. He unfolds clothes, he takes things out of the dishwasher, he pulls his toys out of his bucket faster than I put them in. I was in the bathroom for less than 5 seconds to hang up a towel and he had the toilet paper roll in one hand, unravelling it as fast as he could. He likes to play in the dog water. He will just plip softly and gently until I call his name and come running -- then he goes full force in order to make the BIGGEST wet mess he can in the four seconds it will take me to reach him and put the water up. Yesterday he got to the bag of melty beads (they are about the size of a grain of rice) that was sealed and he managed to open it and dump it all over the stair landing. Then he put as many of them as he could into his overall pocket. Then he has this maniacal laugh that he does when he knows he is creating havoc. When someone defined boys as "A noise with dirt on it," they were right.

Not only is he more destructive than the girls, he is far more resourceful. He can open up a packet of fruitsnacks by himself. He can tear into a box of macaroni and cheese silently while sitting in the shopping cart. He can open the drawer with the pens and pencils and reach up and feel around with his fingers until he grasps something. Then he will fight to the death to keep you from getting whatever he finds.

He got his first timeout yesterday for pulling Jillise's hair. He seems to enjoy the reaction he gets from them and this is not the first time he has tried to yank out clumps of their hair. Usually I slap him on the hand and tell him no, but that doesn't work. So I sat him on my lap facing away from me and I wrapped my arms around him and held his hands down in his lap. He thought it was really fun until he realized that I was NOT letting him down.

He is currently grabbing pretzels from the bag left on the table and feeding them to the dog. And I am contemplating homeschooling?????

Tonight in honor of my big day I am going to cover my grey hairs. My grow old gracefully when you can fight it every step of the way? I might as well do my microderm abrasion while I have the color on and fight two birds with one stone. :)