Sorry EASTER, it’s my BIRTHDAY.

Today is EASTER! We have been hunting for eggs like mad men all weekend.


Happy kids make me happy.

My family makes me happy.



Yet, no offense to Easter or my awesome family, but today marks something else for me.

15 years since I got rods and bolts put in my back. I was 15 years old.


I used to dub this day, March 27th, “My back’s birthday.” In an attempt to get my parents to allow me to have a second birthday. My Father did hand me a wrapped gift on one March 27th. I was embarrassingly excited, but then again I was 18. So a lot about me was embarrassing behavior. That’s what being a teenager is.

He handed me the wrapped gift. I quickly opened them. It was a pair of metal rods. He laughed so hard, so pleased with himself that he could barely get the words out, “It’s a spare set!”


Let us blame the gesture on morphine, being 15, and being me.

I did not want my photo taken, for probably the only time in my life. 


But wham bam thank you ma’m… I sat in a reclining chair for a couple months.

Rehabbed all Summer.

Even went to Soccer preseason that August and played Soccer that Fall season. No wonder my parents cringed from the stands. As a parent I know understand my own childhood so much more. How tough it is to watch your kids go through something medical.

I think of that Thanksgiving night I was listening to the beeping in the dark hospital room. Smudgy J sleeping the hospital crib next to me. I couldn’t close my eyes. I had to watch that baby breath. I wanted to go to sleep. My logical brain knew he was going to be okay! He was under observation and great care! I should get some sleep. Yet at that ceiling I stared for what seemed like hours. My logical brain was fast asleep by that time.

All the sappy quotes like, “Having a kid is like having your heart walk around outside your body.” I’m like dammit, I get that now! Weep weep. I save my toddlers lives daily. Not even our baby proofed fortress can stop them from finding danger. I call them the safety inspectors. Oh and on Thursday’s I hire a private safety inspector to come in and find danger in my house.

I got hurt so much as a kid. I know one of them is bound to be like me and Auntie Luke. I broke my left wrist tripping over my cat running backwards in the living room when I was in 7th grade. I dislocated my shoulder while playing ring around the rosie on ice skates when I was 3 and the list goes on and on. My middle name is not GRACE, that is for sure.

Taking care of another human being completely is the most beautiful and challenging task you can take on.

Yes, my kids will get hurt. I can’t save them from the world or from being human. I’ll just have to read stories and help them heal. Because that is exactly what I signed on for. If you are sick and need a 3 hour hug, I’m your girl.



So whatever the future holds we will deal with it. For today, we will just be happy for 15 years and modern medicine. Happy for my family. Happy for our health. Happy that the coat Jack wore today to Easter is 30 years old. Happy that I had parents that took care of me. Happy that this also kicks off the LAST MONTH OF ME BEING 29 years old. Which seems like a random fact that I was shout a lot to make less mature behavior seem necessary. Yes, we will go with that.


Happy 15th Birthday Britt’s Back.

Please send presents!


Not to me! Com’on I’m going to be 30 next month, don’t you listen! Send them to the


Boys and Girls Club of Cape Cod

Check out their Wish List!



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