Last night's party was fabulous with French Martinis, 80s hits and sushi enjoyed by all!

And big brother Bob has promised to leave me his cashmere blazer in his will after I spent the night following him around, stroking his back like a favourite pet.

I smartly didn't drink much, having only one martini. I tried for a second but it mysteriously went missing half way through consumption, which painfully reminded me of my wedding day when people kept stealing my drinks.

I mention smartly not drinking because after collapsing in bed at 3am, Jakob woke up at 4am coughing and crying "I CAN'T DO THIS ALONE! HELP ME!" And I said, "What..cough? Of course you can, go back to sleep." But being the good Mom that I am and with Paul passed out unconscious in the bed beside me, I dragged my weary body out of bed to get him water and cough medicine. Which he hates. Jakob hates cough medicine. This is so unlike him because normally anything that starts with MEDICINE is usually code for sugar.

So because it is now 4:20am and I have finally calmed Jakob, Arthur has decided that it is time to go outside and attacks Hamish in front of our bedroom door which again forces my weary body out of bed to yell at him and threateningly snap my fingers. This works until 6:30 am when he starts it up again.

Finally, it's 8:00am and even though Paul had promised he would take Satchel to swim class I know it's up to me because his blood alcohol level is still probably 3 times higher than the legal limit for purely functioning and outside of snoring, he's not moving.

This is when my morning becomes really obnoxious because Satchel cries the entire walk to swim, and between loud, body shaking sobs, he's casting snotty remarks and evil eyes my way.

Honey, I wanted to say, I am the QUEEN of casting daggers from my eyes and I just want to smirk at your feeble attempts. But I don't. I just grab his arm and continue dragging him to the pool.

15 MINUTES OF SATCHEL CRYING AND COUGHING AND CURSING, I am at my wits end and I'm sure I said a few things that most mothers probably would NOT let pass their lips but I just couldn't help myself. Plus I worked out I had only 4 hours of broken sleep and not even a full cup of coffee in my system...so I was in a weakened state.

We finally get to the pool and he sits down on the bench outside and REFUSES to go into the change room to get ready. He just sits there while I say you've got 3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute before class starts. And I realize we've hit a milestone in our relationship. One which proves that I can no longer pick him up, carry him into the change room, force him into his swimsuit and drag him into the pool. And I can't hit him. and I can't GUILT him into getting his sorry ass in there either.

So we left the pool without his swimming. And I was so angry. I'm still angry though we have talked about commitment and responsibility and owning up and not everything in life being wrapped in a pretty package with a nice bow. And that sometimes we have to do things that are not optimal like a 9:00am swim class instead of a more civilized time like 11:00am but you do it. You suck it up. It's part of growing up.

We'll see what happens next Sunday because my other option is to have Paul take him because he CAN still pick him up and force him to change and get into the pool...but I would hate to think that our relationship has come to that.

But despite the small dark stain, my birthday weekend was otherwise fabulous and I can only thank my very sweet husband and wonderful friends and family.

Especially walking home to strawberry crepes and bacon for breakfast!