My birthday weekend did not quite turn out the way we'd planned.
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Friday night, we made pizzas together and then had a "Princess" cake, complete with one candle and singing from my three favorite people. In those moments as my daughters and husband sang to me in the dark, tears spilled over and I was reminded of how very blessed I am.
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Bookworm was too sick to participate in Smithsonian Day, so there went the day on Saturday. But she wasn't feeling rotten and kept feeling better, so we did go to Atlanta for our birthday dinner date. Friends kept the girls for the evening and she felt well enough that they went bowling after dinner, as originally planned.
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Husband and I had a fantastic dinner at one of my all-time favorite restaurants. It was made even better by the fact I had a birthday card from them, gifting my entree. So, we shared a bottle of a wine. It was odd to realize most of the merlots on the menu are ones that have found their way into my wine cabinet over the past few years. I realized just how much I enjoyed this restaurant, that I'm still buying wine that I'd first tried while seated in one of their cozy, deep, dimly-lit booths. .
After dinner and a visit to Husband's former workplace (While there, several folks approached him to say "Hi, boss!" One even told him that if he ever comes back to the Atlanta area, she wants to come work for him. These are the things that make me so proud of him. He hasn't been there for over 2 years, yet people say how much they miss him and enjoyed working for him. And this happens no matter where he goes.). Anyway, after that visit, we headed to the bowling alley to meet up with our friends and children.
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I was so surprised by the state of the bowling alley. It has clearly been a long time since I've been in a bowling alley (once, 8 years ago). The girls had so much fun and Husband even bowled a game. The girls want to go again, so maybe we can wrangle some friends into going sometime.
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We stayed at a hotel overnight since Husband had to be at the airport early to head out of the country for a conference this week. It was too long of a morning for Bookworm and by the time we were about to sing the last song of mass, she was asking to go home to bed. {I guess 9:45 for bed on Saturday and an early rise to get Daddy to the airport, the hour+ car ride, then sunday school and mass was too much for her.} We'll stay in the next couple days to let her fully recoup.
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In short, 31 has brought me a lesson already: a dinner date with a man who will sing a Marilyn Monroe-esque version of "Happy Birthday" to me in a packed restaurant is all it takes to make a great birthday.
