Smiley Riley is 10.

Thanks to those that sent shout-outs to Riley.  She got to read them, and she felt pretty special.  For those that may not know, or happened to miss my last post, Riley turned 10 on Wednesday.  How is it possible?  I'm a mother of a 10 year old. And I am a mother of a 16 month old...both girls.  Both so incredibly different.  And I'm the mother of a seven year old boy....I have to keep telling myself that I'm still a hot chick.  I know that's really, really superficial, but I feel like my life has turned into this time-warp.  And I stand still while everything and everyone whizzes by me..leaving those moving vapor-trails as they spin into the future.  "Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'...into the future." I now know exactly what that means.  That it's not just some drugged-out has-been talking about something he knows nothing about.  (Just a partially drugged out, has-been).
I fear that one day I'm going to look in the mirror and really see myself...and I'll be this sad, old lady that still tries to "wear what the kids are wearing".  And "pretends she's 25 years younger than she really is".  The sad part? I can honestly see myself doing this...and being too far gone to have any shame over it. 

Anyway, back to my daughter, because this post is, after all, about her.  Mainly.  Ten years ago to this very night (I'm typing this on the 14th, but who knows when it will get posted), I remember I was laying in my tiny hospital bed...and I got up to go take my contacts out, because I'd just finished nursing Riley--and it was really weird--and I thought I may as well try to get some sleep, because I'd been excited and up since around 4 am when she was born.  I got slowly out of bed, and felt amazing--I could move!  I could breathe!  I was a little shaky, but I didn't feel like I had a 100lb tumor stuck to my lungs and chest, and I really thought I'd go look at myself in the mirror, and love that I was skinny again, and that my stomach would be back to normal.  I had just had a natural delivery, after Riley finally came 2 weeks overdue, so I should have had at least one thing go my way.  Right?  
Well, first off, I remember my reflection showing me that my hair was freaking scary.  I smelled pretty ripe, and my face was greasy.  My happiness at being a mommy did a lot for my demeanor, but not my physical appearance.  And then it was time for the real test.  I needed to see my stomach.  Because it didn't have an 8 and 1/2 pound baby in it anymore...so it had to have been somewhat smaller, right?  I mean, isn't that science? 
I lifted my nightgown, and of course I was sucking it in, because now I could.  And I again consulted my reflection.  However, it didn't look like I'd lost that much weight.  And then, I exhaled. Basically letting my stomach OUT and it just....dropped.  Like, to the top of my thighs.  It was THE grossest thing I'd ever seen.  And Riley, my first born, had made this happen to me.  Something so small, and so sweet and that I surprisingly loved beyond comprehension as soon as I held her in my arms, had horribly disfigured me.  Forever.  
*rant* Or so I thought.  I mean, I'll never have that tight skin that women have BEFORE giving birth, again.  Even Madonna doesn't have it--not that I'm saying her stomach doesn't look great after all the exercises and such that she does.  But you can tell the texture is just...different in her lower abdomen.  And believe me, I can spot it.  Never underestimate the power of a neurotic's eye.  It's a genetic thing.  And once again, I totally missed the boat.  THANKS ANCESTORS.*end rant*
Anyway, it was then and there that I realized there would be so many sacrifices I'd have to make for this kid....willing, and kinda unwilling.  And though that sounds less-than-great, it's the truth.  I have made sacrifices.  But I'd do it a million times over.  The smiles, the love, the sense of achievement she's brought into my life, have made everything beyond worth it.  Ten years ago I was a much different person than I am today, but I was less.  Though I whine about getting old, I guess there's really no way I'd rather do it.  
Well...that was kind of weird, I know.  But the fact that I've made it this far is a bit mind-blowing to me.  In the next ten years what will be happening?  Will she be attending college?  Will she be married?  Will she be happy?  Just as long as she knows that she's loved...that she and her brother and her sister, and her father are my everything.  And that I'm grateful for every day I have with them. If she knows those things, then regardless of how old I am, it will be worth it.  :)
(fyi:  I'll also keep telling myself I'm still a hot chick...cause that's just what I do).

So, Riley woke up and let both me and Jeff sleep in.  On HER birthday!  Is she the best kid, or what?  She didn't even keep coming in to our room, begging us to let her open presents every two minutes after 8:00 am.  Like someone who will remain nameless.  Or not.  Cole.
We got to get up at around 10:30 and we didn't eat breakfast, because we went down and watched Riley open gifts, and then got ready to go to Pirate Island Pizza.  Which was pretty much awesome, because that place is a ghost town on Wednesday afternoon, and we had the entire building to ourselves.  Our waitress actually apologized to us for not being able to sing to her, as there were only two servers on staff at that time, so they gave her a baggie of treats, instead.  Worked out perfectly--she's like her dad in that the whole singing part of birthdays is best forgotten about.  Technically this was the year that we were supposed to let both kids have birthday parties.  But with our house going back on the market and us being in the middle of a bunch of crap in that area, we have postponed it to next year, when hopefully, life is a little less out of control.  Emphasis on "hopefully".  However, both Riley and Cole were total champs about this decision, and I was reminded again, of how fabulous my kids are.  

After gorging ourselves on pizza and breadsticks, (totally screwing Cole's system up, I might add, as we just weren't even thinking about it, and neither was he), the kids went nuts with all the tokens and went to work winning tickets to buy necessities like plastic bracelets, and small sticky toys that get hair and goo all over them, and sea animals that Syd can choke on. Basically everything I hate.  
While they were doing that, I let Syd run around and touch all the blinking lights...until I noticed the ticket/prize guy giving me the look that said I needed to exercise more control over my toddler.  She was a little stinky anyway, so I decided to take her out to the car, and change her diaper.  I went and got my bag, and the keys from Jeff, and went to take care of business.  

I unlocked the keys with the remote, sat Sydney next to her car seat and shut the door so she could play around while I put my bag on the passenger side seat and threw the keys with it...grabbing a diaper, shutting the door and going to the opposite back seat, so I could grab Syd and change her.  However, somehow...the car was locked.  And Syd was inside, and it was the first warm day we'd had in forever, and the windows were all up.  I kind of panicked for a few seconds.  Syd was fine...she'd found some stuff to eat on the floorboards, and so she was content with that.  But Jeff was inside the arcade with Riley and Cole, and the keys and my phone were on the passenger seat...mocking me.  My dilemma:  Trying to get to Jeff, to anyone, while my baby is locked inside the car, alone in a parking lot, getting continually warmer, with no fresh air.  I ran to the emergency exit of the arcade, and pounded on it.  The ticket/prize guy looked at me, pretended not to see me, and then looked away.  I didn't go anywhere.  I kept the car within my sight and continued to stay there, looking straight at him, and finally he rolled his eyes, and opened the door for me...about to tell me that I wasn't supposed to enter that way, until I cut him off with, "I need my husband over there--I'm a moron, and I locked my baby in the car."  His eyes got all wide, and he called to Jeff while I stood there, knowing that Syd was screaming in the car.  Jeff followed me out, and here's what we saw:

Jeff called the police and we waited...and when one showed up, he took a while, trying to get the car door jimmied.  Luckily, I left the keys on the front seat, because he ended up pushing the unlock button on the remote of my keys. Syd was just fine the entire time.  It was like a game to her.  
Yet another reason I won't be winning any "Mother of the Year" awards.  Luckily everything turned out okay.  After that, I was done....I'd had way too much excitement. 

First Riley had to go spend some money at Toys R Us.  (Some rituals are too entirely awesome to break), and then lastly we came home.  I took a nap while Jeff and Riley made cupcakes with no frosting--her idea.  She's not a frosting fan.  (Neither am I). It was really low-key, but that's something I'm grateful we all agree on:  Low-key is how we prefer stuff.  Unless it's about me...and then you can bring out the fireworks, and it's all good.  

Riley read all of her shout outs, and felt great, and ended up telling Jeff and I that yet again, it was the "best birthday ever".  I'm thoroughly enjoying this part of her childhood, and I don't look forward to the time when this whole ordeal will turn into, "My birthdays ALWAYS suck".  Which is something I went through from about 16 to 25.  Maybe she'll luck out and that phenomenon will skip her. Fingers crossed.  
I'm so lucky to have you, Sweetie.  Your birthday is always exciting for me, because it reminds me of how much you've changed my life--so much better than I could have imagined.