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I’ve increasingly been inundated by social media ads for a swanky New York bakery. They’re pushing a 4-inch birthday cake. They’ll ship it to you in a few days! With special pricing! It’s a limited time offer! That just so happened to end right before my birthday.

After the 24 millionth time of seeing the ad I thought--you know what, give me that cake. I emailed the info to my husband.

For my 33rd birthday I want 20 minutes of quiet at the end of the day with my husband to enjoy a tiny, boujee birthday cake where each bite probably costs $5.

This feels right given the thick of where we’re at right now.

I’m 10 weeks into a 12 week maternity leave. Each morning I wrangle two boys before Ben and Cam leave for work and daycare. Then my day is a blur bouncing, feeding, soothing and oogling over a beautiful baby. The two big boys are home just before 6pm and in two hours we play, feed, bathe and bed them. Ben and I do a 30-minute workout together and watch 15 minutes worth of a Bill Gates documentary on Netflix before we both pass out.

Sometimes we chat briefly at 2am in passing while baby wrangling.

There’s not a lot of mental or actual space this year for an extravagant birthday celebration, and I’m okay with that. I’m heads down in infancy. In days I know from last go-around will pass and when they do, in all of their up-in-the-night, spit-up-on-my-shoulder glory, I’ll strangely miss them.

We spent time with friends this past weekend. We took a family walk in the sunshine. This up coming weekend we’ll go out for my birthday dinner, me and Ben and Adrian, while Cam is at home with a sitter. It’s what we’re able to do.

I’m so lucky to have this beautiful family, these healthy young boys, to be feeling strong and *thankfully* not pregnant anymore. That’s an immeasurable gift in itself. The fancy New York cake is the icing on that cake.

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