In all my 37 birthdays on this planet, I am pretty sure no one has ever baked me a cake at 2 am. In my 8 birthdays celebrated with Kurt, he has never baked me a cake. This year, it was unbelievable… he put this cake together at 2am:
Why 2am? Here is our jolly little Janelle, happily running at daycare on Monday… playing chase in the yard. Kurt and I were both there to celebrate Stefan’s birthday with his playmates and caregivers.
Moments later she fell from that dogwood tree. Further up than what you can see here. I had literally JUST shared with Kurt feeling she was a little high, and then *CRACK* a branch (~4cm in diameter) broke, and I watched her sail through the air and land in a belly flop heap. While she seemed okay, ate dinner fine, and went to sleep as usual… she then woke before 10pm and for 4-5 hours flipped between agony over her “ouch, ouch, ouch” and nonsensical talk (take my boots off, turn the tap off) and struggles to thermo regulate (i’m too hot, i’m too cold). By 8am she had not woken up, and we wondered what the day would bring. Fortunately, she woke up just like her usual cheery self and we all got to celebrate together this evening:
I’m pretty sure Kurt and I are suffering more from the lack of sleep than she is! All-nighters are tough at 37!