Near Death by Chocolate

My birthday was this past Thursday.
You know how people say "I'm 37, but I feel 16!"
Yeah, well, I'm not one of those people.

Cody made sure I had a nice day filled with great presents and way too much cake.
Frankie tried to give me her own little gift of love, but it was soaked.
Floyd tried to commit suicide.

I know--I need to start from the beginning.
Ok, rewind:

For the last 6 years, I have gotten into a routine of coming up to camp on Thursdays and leaving on Sundays (my husband is part owner of a traditional overnight camp in Northern Michigan). My plans this week were to do the same. On Wednesday evening, around 5:00, I changed my mind.

Floyd and Frankie were all over me. I told them repeatedly that they were bugging me, but neither one seemed to care. I had one whining and pulling at my pant leg while the other was one was panting at my pant leg. Ugh. So annoying. Both of them. Frick and Frack. BEAT IT.

It was then I decided that it was time for Daddy to take over. After 10 days on my own, I realized I was D-O-N-E. Floyd, Frankie and I did a quick dinner and I got everyone ready to go. We were out the door in a little over an hour. Daddy-bound, yo. (Side note: Though it seems to take FOREVER to get out of the house these days, I have found that I gain some valuable crunch time by putting FJ in her car seat with the radio on while I pack the car, go to the bathroom, or do whatever. Frankie is safe and happy while I have about 5 minutes of "arm freedom.")

As I slipped into the driver's seat, I heard Frankie whining about who-knows-what. She had been fussy and irritable since I picked her up from daycare earlier in the day, and even in the car it took awhile for her to settle. Floyd was (as usual) in circles in the "way back" DYING to bark out of excitement, but opting for that muted dog whimper that makes me want to send him to "Shuttytown."

Now, normally I might care about all these annoyances afer a long day--but not tonight!
NO...no...no...
I was going to be at camp in 3 hours in 15 minutes and then, as far as I was concerned, I was going to be CLOSED FOR BUSINESS. We were on our way, baby. We're a-comin' for you, Daddy. It's all good in the hood. That song on the radio...Turn it up!!

Frankie was kind of restless on the way up. I thought for sure she'd crash after a long day of hard core playing at daycare, but she didn't. I didn't care. In fact, I was still in my "I don't care" mode when we got to camp. Frankie didn't go down until 11:00 at night, but I didn't care. I didn't even care when she woke up at 6:00 A.M. because after I got to her, I remembered that I was CLOSED, and you know what I did? I handed her to Daddy and I went back to sleep until 7:30. Oh yeah-- I did that. Cody had everything under control and besides, it was my birthday!

The day started off very nicely. We just acquired a nanny for Frankie for the days I'm at camp (so I can actually get some work done while I'm there) and I love her. She is from Australia and she's adorable. (See top picture). I'm thinking that Frankie Jade will be quite unique as a Jewish child of Chinese descent who speaks with an Australian accent. Is there even a "box" for that?

During lunch, I uncovered what I believe to be an "unintentional birthday present" from Frankie. When she was done alternating between eating her food and throwing it, I let her drink out of my water bottle. (Anything to get her to drink a little water). She seemed to be having a good time giggling and soaking her pants, so I let her do it until her pants were completely soaked with all the water that didn't make it into her mouth (most of it). A little while after lunch, I took a swig of water from that same bottle and felt something gross in my mouth. I spit it out into my hand and um...EW. My kid had decided to leave some bites of watermelon in my water bottle. How gross is that? Small, soaked, nasty chunks of watermelon. Yeah, I know. It was IN my mouth. Hello? Gross.

After I got over that traumatic experience, I spent the next few hours gathering presents, candy and "Happy Birthdays" from anyone I could. I stuffed my face full of cake and opened all my presents from Cody. It was a good day. Birthdays are good.

Floyd is not.

Cody waited until very late that night to tell me, (he didn't want to ruin my big day), but it seems my beloved stubby-tail rescue Golden Retriever thought it would be a good idea to celebrate my birthday as a "party for one" in the dry storage area in back of the mess hall. Cody just happened to be walking by only to find Floyd with his head in a huge bag of chocolate cake mix. He said that Floyd had already consumed quite a bit and when he turned to look at Cody, he had tons of chocolate dripping down both sides of his mouth. Cody freaked. Floydie is a big dog, but he had likely eaten enough to die. Thankfully, Cody and his partner worked fast. They called a vet and, as instructed, gave Floyd hydrogen peroxide with a syringe. Cody claims Floyd was throwing up the chocolate for quite awhile--and towards the end, for the finale, tossed up two corn cobs as well.

Today, Floyd is feeling much better, Frankie used a sippy cup at lunch for the 2 sips of water she took, and I was happily walking around camp proudly displaying one of my most fave bday gifts: my new necklace that says "CODY. FRANKIE. FLOYD."

They are my family. We are, undoubtedly, a spirited motley crue with no actual blood between us, but we are a very special, happy family...and for my 37th birthday, I can't ask for more than that.

But--make no mistake, I still feel every bit of 37. Every single bit of it.