My husband comes from a family of poker players. A family gathering isn’t complete without a Texas Hold-’em tournament…or two.

One of their favorite games is Omaha Hi Low. If you’ve never played it, it can get confusing. Actually, even if you have played it, it can get confusing. Trust me.

What you need to know is that it can be a split game. It’s always good to have a high hand, because it can win the whole pot or half the pot if there is a low hand that qualifies. A qualifying low hand is one where all five of your cards are under an eight and the cards can’t be paired. The best low hand is Ace through 5, which can also be a high hand. See? Confusing.

Why am I explaining this to you? Because my last week has been one constant game of Omaha High Low. Let’s review, shall we?

Royal Flush – I find out that I was chosen to speak at the BlogHer ’11 Conference Community Keynote. This is like the blogging equivalent of the Oscar…or the Heisman…depending on what you’re into.

Three 3’s and two 2’s – I realize that being chosen to speak at the Community Keynote means that I have to stand onstage, in front of thousands of people. It appears to be a low hand, but it ends up winning the pot as a high one.

4 of a Kind – I am picked for three, big, exciting campaigns, two of which may benefit my local community.

Ace through 4…and a 9 – Two campaigns are set to be unveiled (and therefore WORKED ON) the week before I attend the BlogHer ’11 Conference where I will do my job on Twitter with 30,000 people following what I say and where I will speak (again with the thousands of people). Almost a low hand, but not quite.

Straight Flush – A friend of mine, who knows I have been either sleeping on our couch or on top of six pillows because our 30 year old mattress hurts my back, tells me she’s going to make it her mission to win me a new bed. AND SHE DOES! I had to promise to give up liquor and Ambien, so you KNOW I want it bad.

2 through 6 – I check email only to find out that my daughter’s summer camp starts in three days. Two days after her softball tournament and one day after a big event I’m planning for a sponsor. Camp involves laundry, last minute supplies, packing for a week and driving her out of town. All while I’m doing that Twitter stuff, and my regular job and planning these three campaigns. What? Oh, I’m going to a conference next week? The one where people fret over what they’ll wear and how good their business cards look and making sure your shoes are stylish AND comfortable. Oh, and I’m speaking? And, there’s stuff to fill out for that? And, I may want to get my roots done, and wax my eyebrows and have you seen my feet? There needs to be a pedicure.

Flush – My daughter’s softball team wins their league championship and the tournament.

2 through 5…and a 7 – The games are in 100 degree heat, my old dog gets overheated on her walk, sees a trash truck (which she is terrified of), falls over and pees all over herself, my son gets a booger and it makes him vomit and then I trip over the reins of one of those horse heads on a stick.

Ace through 5 – I realize that despite being so busy that my head feels like it’s going to pop off, I will live through all of it, see good friends along the way, experience something I have only dreamed about, then sleep in a fabulous new bed.

No matter how you look at it, I win.

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I really wasn’t all that thrilled about turning 40 yesterday. I blame my lack of enthusiasm on my compression stockings. There is something about tight hose with a reinforced heel that makes you feel like you have one foot in the grave.

But, as it turned out, I had a pretty fabulous day.

There was the sun on my face, softball and baseball games, icy cold drinks made with blueberry vodka, lots of laughs and immense generosity of good friends who offered their home for a get-together.

There were more good friends who brought me food, flowers, gifts and their incredible company and a birthday card from my 12 year old that said, “Thank you for all you have given me. I’m really lucky to have you as my mom. P.S. Count your blessings, not your candles.”

I love that kid.

Hands down, though, my favorite thing was the cake my husband had made for me. This is my reaction when I saw it.

Which, ironically, is the same face that was looking back at me.

Of course, those good friends I was talking about took the liberty of sticking a toothpick in my teeth and though you can’t see it, someone added a green sprinkle that made it look like I had a booger.

The kids had fun eating my eyeballs and nostrils and my son even offered to put his own booger on the cake. He has a heart of gold, that one.

All I know is that I had as close to a perfect day that a girl can have. It fed my soul in every way and if it’s indicative of what to expect in my 40’s, then bring them on.

Reinforced heels and all.

If you want a chance to have the best day ever, don’t forget to enter to win a $100 gift card to Dick’s Sporting goods courtesy of BlogHer and Gatorade Moms!  Click here for details!

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One of the most special things about the holidays is spending time with family and, somehow, this weekend we squeezed in events with my dad and step-mom, my husband’s parents and my mom.  You want quality time with the Fali family?  We are so on it.  Especially if there will be pie.

Today, my mom’s house was filled with her famous, Lebanese lamb and rice and quite a few relatives and friends.  After dinner, we moved to her patio to enjoy a respite from the rain that has been plaguing Ohio for days (and will continue for days more).  Arizona called, she wants me.

My son was enjoying the time out of the house, running around the back yard, picking flowers and thoroughly entertaining the crowd.  It’s possible there were show tunes involved.  At one point he ran to me and jumped up on my lap.

As the group watched, my son hugged me and started to run his hand up and down my arm.  I squeezed him tight and asked, “Are you having fun, buddy?”

Then, I got the equivalent of an Easter-slap-in-the-face when he replied, “Yeah!  And, your arm is really hairy.”

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I first met Casey at a meetup in Indianapolis, in 2008.  It was April 24, 2008…almost exactly three years ago.  Funny, but it feels like I’ve known her my entire life.

She was just how I had pictured her; kind, intelligent, funny, red-headed and adorable.  She, however, was shocked that the Momo Fali she met that night wasn’t a 300 lb. Samoan.

That trip to Indianapolis turned out to be one I will never forget.  And, not in a good way.  I spent most of the evening in tears, worried sick about my son.  I will never forget getting off the phone with my husband and falling against the wall in a sloppy, sobbing heap then looking up to see Casey standing there.  The hug that she gave me, from one stranger to another, got me through the night.

I came to find out that the hug was indicative of how much Casey gives of herself.  She embodies strength, honesty and friendship and since that first meeting, I have hugged her when she cried, she hugged me when I cried AGAIN, she has seen me in my bathing suit and I have arranged the marriage of my son and her first-born child.  For real.

She has openly shared her battle with depression and has probably saved some people in the process.  I respect Casey for that and for so much more.

As she prepares for the birth of her second child, I want her to know that I’m thinking of her, I’m proud of her and I’m so glad that she’s my friend.  Pregnancy has not been easy for Casey, but she has managed to endure.

But, still…I hate her a little because next to her, I really do look like a 300 lb. Samoan.

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