I got woke up on my birthday by the flower delivery guy. I don't think he likes me. Last time he came here, he had flowers for somebody else, and he seemed to take it personally and blame me for not being the right recipient. So this time he hands them to me, seeming upset because he had to wait for me to put a robe on and come upstairs, and leaves without saying anything.

Mom sent me a dozen white roses. It's the first time she's sent me roses in six years. She used to do it every year for my birthday, but when I had kids she stopped. So that was nice. They smelled so good yesterday, I could smell them whenever I walked in the house.

My birthday storm this year was an ice storm. I had a prenatal massage scheduled for my birthday. That wasn't intentional. I scheduled it six weeks ago, and January 7 was the first day that she had an opening where Brian would be available to watch the kids. Thanks to the ice, she called to cancel it.

I couldn't have slept in anyway. Dave was coming over at 10 to start working on the bathroom. Yup, for my birthday, I got home improvement: a bathtub. Sure, it's a big, fancy, expensive thing. But it's also something that we'd been planning on all year, and just hadn't had the time and money for yet. It also took up my entire birthday, which meant I had to spend it with the kids, out, away from home, because the water was turned off, and it didn't even get finished.

I took the kids out for breakfast at Cracker Barrel. They were good there, at least, although I think that used it up. I took them to the mall next, and they went ballistic. I picked up $40 worth of fairy stuff at Hot Topic. Went to fetch lunch for the men at home, then went to Beth's house with the kids. Hung out there all day, ordered pizza for dinner, then went home. Ended up getting there 30 minutes after the babysitter.

I don't know why he bothered to call a babysitter. He didn't know where we were going. By that point I had already spent half the day in tears. It didn't help that the kids kept asking why I didn't get any presents for my birthday, or any cake (he got an ice cream cake, then left it in the freezer all day). He wanted me to pick somewhere to go, but I couldn't. He finally ended up picking Johnny Rockets and then the comedy club. Where the headline comedian stank.

I was in a little better mood when we left, so I told Brian he could make it up to me by buying me a lap dance. I wanted to go check out Cheetah's, since we hadn't been there before and it was supposed to be good. It wasn't. The girls were ugly and couldn't dance. I picked out the one pretty girl in the place, and she said she'd come back and do a dance for us in a song or two, when they had a special. Special came, no girl. Because she'd gone home. The only redeeming factors here were that I got to spend an hour and a half making fun of the dancers, and got our money back when we left.

The only present I got for my birthday was the first recognition by somebody that I was pregnant, without them having to be told first. Nine months, and apparently now I finally *look* pregnant. Or at least, I do to the coat check girl at the strip club.

My dad didn't even call until almost 10 o'clock, while we were eating dinner (grilled cheese, woo-hoo!). He didn't send me anything, either. My brother, I never heard from.

So that's my 30th birthday. Wasn't it great?