1. Hosted my son’s 6th birthday party at the house and baked the cake myself. And no one got injured or became ill.

2. Decided that vacuuming the house before the party was probably a mute point and made a conscious decision just not to do it.

3. Went to the gym and cardio jammed like a mad woman because I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the birthday cake.

4. Ate two helpings of cake.

5. In celebration of the birthday “desert/southwest” theme, I debuted, for the first time since having kids, my refurbished and stretched (feet do grow after you have kids btw) ultra-extravagant iquana skin cowboy boots that my dad bought me the summer I graduated from college.

6. Went to church the next day despite my love of Sunday mornings of extra-coffee-and-sometimes-reading-parts-of-the-newspaper-that-are-not-the-sales-circulars…just because my cute Catholic husband asked me to.

7. Took an impromptu family trip into Boston after church and enjoyed the beautiful pre-spring day.

8. Did not do the 5 loads of laundry I should have done but instead enjoyed the day.

9. Did not clean up all the mess from the party the day before, but instead enjoyed the day.

10. Sat on the steps of a skyscraper with the sun on my face and thought about how grateful I am for my cute Catholic husband, my just-turned 6-year old, my “baby girl” who will soon be 4, my family in far away states who send birthday “Young Geologist Mining Kits” and stuffed animal armadillos, the friends and family nearby who help me serve birthday cake and dole out goody bags … and how much I love those rockin’ cowboy boots that my dad bought me a long time ago for no good reason other than I loved them.