I asked Matthew today how his day at kindegarten went. “The bad boys were there”, he said, “but they didn't push me.” “Oh, so there's bad boys at kindegarten — what else do they do?” I asked, having visions of four year olds lounging against the classrom walls, smoking, spitting and swearing. He looked at me. “They play Buzz Lightyear!”. A minutes silence. “We're only kids Dad!”
As is usual for birthdays here — we both completely forgot this morning that it was Deb's. Granted I caught the early bus into work and she was still in bed when I left, but I did say goodbye to her and I'm sure she didn't remember it was her birthday either!
Today was also the day of the 20 week scan for the baby, and we were going to meet at the clinic for that. Instead I got a call just after 9am from Deb, in tears, and saying I had to come home as she wasn't well enough to drive into town. She's been home all week with a cold, and it all seemed to catch up when she dropped Matthew off for the day — she almost fainted. For me it was a chance to redeem myself! I left work, bought some flowers and grabbed a taxi home. She cried at the flowers. Good tears.
So, the scan was fine. The baby is healthy and on track and all there. Deb was relieved, she said it's the best birthday present she could have had. She's been a little worried as she's lost weight so far this pregnancy. Babies are like parasites though — both the radiologist today and her specialist used that word! — you may be losing weight, but they sure won't be. We managed to get Deb an appointment with her Dr also today, and he took one look at her and prescribed no work and rest for the remainder of this week and maybe some of next week also. Apparently he said to her, “Tell your husband to cancel all social engagements this weekend and just look after you.” I think that's going a little far. I think he's stepping over that professional/personal boundary. I think it's obvious he had no idea I've got front row tickets to the basketball test match tomorrow night against Australia!
Deb's sitting beside me as I write this. This is the bit, she said, where you tell them how much you love me. Where you describe all of my virtues and say how much you've loved living with me these past 15 (of her 38) years. And I guess it is.
Through all of my mistakes and faults and fuckups. Through all of my moods and wrong words and raised voices. Through all of that, you're the one I've wanted to share a birthday with each year. Through all of that, you're the one I've loved. And you're the one I can't imagine spending the rest of my life without. Happy Birthday Debbie! I love you!
A little later …
Mike: “Is that enough to get to the basketball tomorrow?”
Deb: “I never for a moment imagined you wouldn't!”
Link of the day
Baby Zone
All a pregnant woman could want on her birthday.
Jane's
Another place Deb's been hanging out!
Journals and blogs that I read regularly
Raising Hell
Feral Living
Hippycritical
Udder
My Life in 12 Point Font
Journal of a Writing Man
Some Jingle Jangle Morning
The Last Girl Scout
Potatoe.com
Journallife.com
Window to my Soul
Chickybabe
Sorabji.com
Yesterday's Makeup
Fifteen Milliliters
Fly Away
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Photo of tunnel copyright Bernd Klumpp, available from istockphoto.com