All About My Birthday

Today is my birthday (whoo), and before I go to bed -- apparently I'm officially old as I'm exhausted at 8pm -- I figured I'd share some highlights of the day.

1) My mom called to ask where I wanted to go for dinner. Since I'm the one who cooks for everyone else's birthday dinners, at least I'm not expected to cook for my own? She suggested Go Roma! While they have good food, and I do enjoy it there, essentially fast food Italian is not quite what I was looking for. I politely declined and suggested a more suitable establishment (that was great and I ate 1/3 of my dinner yet still came home stuffed).

2) My mom did make my birthday cake though. She tries really hard, but ... while her heart is in the right place, her baking sometimes comes up a little short. She decided to make it dairy free by simply omitting the butter and milk (no replacements). Then she thought the white cake was a little too yellow so dyed it pink. She made chocolate frosting, but not quite enough -- so only the top layer ended up frosted. And the edge of the (once) round cake was cut off prior to being frosted so Little Miss could have a dairy free bit. It really was an adorable cake.

Bless her heart, my mom tried. My husband complimented the ice cream I served with it saying that, This ice cream really complements the cake, and that was the nicest thing he could say. My husband, who eats anything. My dad didn't even really want a piece, and he'll really eat anything. My cooking and baking skills? Nope, they did not come from my mom. I think we're actually going to toss the remainder of the cake, and my family is allowed to buy a cake for me next year -- unless I can teach the wee ones to make a cake in the next 364 days.

3) Little Miss leaned over to me at lunchtime and blew me a hug and some kisses. There, Mom, I just gave you some of your presents. And truly? That's all the presents I needed. Something really clicked last year, and I decided that I could care less what gifts I receive or whether I receive any. Kisses from Little Miss? Good enough for me!

4) I received a birthday card that listed the then and now type things. Again, I don't care who shares my birthday or what happened in the world of sports that night, but there was an interesting price comparison.

Gallon of Milk: Then $1.50 Now $3.87 -- where are they buying their milk? And from whom? I have a few things I'd like to sell these people. The last gallon of milk I bought was $1.79, and I bought it on sale for $1.49 the week before.

Gallon of Gas: Then $0.57 Now $1.86 -- but apparently I need to move somewhere else. I haven't paid $1.86 for gas in years. In fact, I paid $2.55 earlier today and was happy because that was the cheapest I'd paid in awhile.

Loaf of Bread: Then $0.28 Now $1.40 -- it's interesting to me that this is the biggest percentage jump, but I also have to say that my bread costs more than that (though not by much), and I buy mine at Costco which I know is cheaper than most grocery stores. But hey, I'll pay that premium for the whole wheat bread.

Ok ok ok, and just because I suppose I can't leave all the pop culture out, popular songs I've heard of included Mandy and Please Mr. Postman.

Wow. Now I really feel old. In fact, me and my inflamed bursa sac are going to head off to bed now. Especially because this was much funnier in my head, but I'm too tired to fix it now.

I'm Not Overcompensating

I sort of fell down with Little Miss's birthday in that I didn't think about it until about a week before her actual birthday. It was summer, and time just got away from me.

My husband is no help. When he was growing up, he never had birthdays celebrated at all. Well, I shouldn't say that, but he never had a birthday party. As in completely, totally nothing. His mom made him a birthday cake only a few times. He doesn't get the birthday thing, so I'm on my own.

For Mister Man, I figured out quite awhile ago what I was going to do. The trick was trying to find a time to do it. His birthday is in October. Looking back, I really didn't plan that out too well. I didn't get married in fall because, hello!, that's football season. Silly me, I didn't ensure that I wouldn't have a child in fall.

Birthday parties generally happen on weekends and usually on Saturdays. So let's run through my calendar this fall. Sept 13? NU football game. Sept 20? NU football game. Sept 27? Ok, actually I could do that day but it's so early in the school year and two weeks before his birthday. Nah. Oct 4? Husband's family reunion. Oct 11 (his actual birthday)? NU game. Oct 18? NU. Oct 25? In Florida. Nov 1? Ok, I could maybe do that although we get back from Florida on Oct 30 and Halloween is the next day and wow that would be tight. Nov 8? NU. Nov 15? Friend's wedding in Seattle. Nov 22? NU game. Nov 29? CARE Faire that I volunteer at and the Sat of Thanksgiving weekend. Dec 6? Ok, that's getting ridiculous.

So apparently the birthday is November 1. Was it this hard when we were growing up?

I remember my mom always throwing great parties for me. They were always at home (except for the one year I talked her into having it at Cheapskate -- the local roller rink), and we always had a ton of fun.

I think my favorite was when I turned 8 and had my first big sleepover. I got to invite seven other girls, and we all had our sleeping bags. Nowaways, we probably would (ok, at least in my area) have someone come in to do hair extensions and nails and makeup, but we did it all ourselves.

We had pizza for dinner, then we started on the requisite fun. Do you remember light as a feather stiff as a board? I don't think it worked for any of us, but we were 8, so what did we know? Then we spent hours making the prediction triangle things and asking questions of it. I actually even partly remember how to make the folded paper thing-a-ma-bob, but I can only get about five steps in. Someday I'll have to go back and relearn how to be an 8 year old girl.

From what I remember, we stayed up until past six in the morning. My poor mom was probably sitting on the steps the whole night watching over us and worried about us. Nonetheless, she had a lovely breakfast of pancakes waiting for us around 9 or so in a vain attempt to rouse us. Parents picked up all my friends by 10 or so, and I slept the rest of the day away.

When I think back on it, all my memories of birthday parties are the things that I did with my friends. It isn't the presents I got (or didn't get), and it isn't the glitz and glamour that I cared about -- nor did I have it. I can only hope that the wee ones have as happy a memories of their birthdays as I do.

And yes, I'll be the mom sitting on the steps in the middle of the night listening to the whispering and giggling and hearing my heart break as I realize that Mister Man and Little Miss are no longer wee ones.

Birthday Boys

On my way home from work last night, my husband called and asked if I'd meet them for dinner. They were at the pool and planned to have dinner near there afterwards.

Since it was sushi Monday and they were talking about going to said restaurant, I was fine with it. They also do tepanyaki, so I figured the wee ones would eat the chicken and rice, as well as some of the veggies.

While I waited for my family at the restaurant (neither 6:45 nor 5 minutes actually means that when they're at the pool, and I should know that), I took a look at the signs on the outside. One mentioned that they now have a birthday special. This was one you didn't have to sign up online for, you just show your ID. And it's valid for a week before and a week after birthdays.

Hmm.

We're currently entering the week 'o birthdays around here. We get eased into it with my mom's birthday on the first of July. Then we have my husband's on July 31, Little Miss's on August 1, and my dad's on August 3. Each insists on his own cake. Each insists on his own celebration. The only good news is that my procrastination means that the leftover cake from Little Miss's friends party won't come until August 16, so I'll only have three cakes in the house at one time.

Needless to say, my dad and husband both got free dinners (ok, they got $15 off their dinners because they ordered expensive ones). And they were supposed to get Kobe cake, whatever that was.

As a side note, Mister Man loved the miso soup, while Little Miss wouldn't try it. They both devoured their chicken and rice. And Little Miss ate all her broccoli. Mister Man ate some of his carrots. They both enjoyed their rainbow sherbert and shared mine. Who would have thought that they liked green tea ice cream? It surprised me, but let's just say that I only got a couple small bites, which isn't the worst thing in the world!

At the end of the meal, both wee ones were pretty tired, and Mister Man decided he was chilly. The two of us went outside to warm up. After a few minutes, my husband came outside saying they were trying to do the birthday cake for him and for my dad. By that point, I had assumed the scoops of ice cream was the dessert and had forgotten all about the cake.

We walked back in and sat down, but my mom and Little Miss were missing. Not surprisingly, they had headed to the bathroom for the second time. Little Miss loves going to the bathroom in every restaurant or public place we go to. We waited several minutes before I finally went to go check on them.

Needless to say, Little Miss was going to be awhile. Given the hour, we decided to go ahead with the cake without them. We flagged down the waitress, and the singing began. And the colored disco lights. And the balloon hats. Oh yeah, and the cake.

The cake was on a huge plate and was a pink heart. I think it was a strawberry ice cream torte (I wasn't offered a taste). There was also a beautiful glass filled with banana pudding decorated with greens inside it and peach slices, etc across the top. My dad and husband dug into their second (and third) desserts.

Shortly thereafter, Mister Man said he was chilly and wanted to go warm up again. I got up to take him outside. Until I got the protest from my husband.

Him: You cannot leave me and your dad sitting here in these goofy hats by ourselves eating our birthday cakes. It's bad enough as it is, but the pathetic old men can't sit alone here.

He makes a good point. After giggling, I sat back down as they finished. But the picture of the two of them sitting alone at this HUGE hibachi with silly balloon hats, hunched over their tiny little pink heart cakes.... Of all the times to not have my camera with me. My apologies for not giving you a better visual.

And yes, I tried to convince them both that this was their birthday dinner and that I was off the hook for the rest of the week. No such luck!