Birthday Blues

I'm sensing a theme and it isn't a good one for a blog about joy!  So far my titles for the year have been a little down and depressing.  But, I've always tried to keep it real and raw with my writing, even if that makes it harder to share.

Yesterday was my birthday and I went to bed teary, although I can't really explain why.  When you reach a certain age, they just sort of flatten.  Other than major milestones, which I celebrated last year, there isn't much hoopla to be had.

The guys did their best, especially my baby boy, to make it a good day.  My morning began with a gigantic birthday bear hug first thing from my gentle giant.  As he isn't an early riser and normally a tad grumpy, seeing that effort and feeling the warmth of his hug is truly all I should've needed to make yesterday special.  My husband fixed me a cup of coffee and ran out to grab breakfast so I could linger a little longer by the fire before church.

Our pew was full of family and sweet baby snuggles from my great-nephew Isaiah.  My lap held a splurge purchase from Saturday's outing, a new Bible.  I've been wanting a new one but had so many requirements, I wasn't sure I'd find the one.  Tim and Noah were patient and encouraging as I browsed the rows at Lifeway.  Eventually, I spotted just the fit - a study Bible, in the translation I prefer, with space in the columns for notes, not too heavy, and opens flat for easy writing.

Once home, Tim retreated for his nap before work and I planned to settle in to my recliner and relax.  Instead, I was surprised with a teen, eager to spend the afternoon with mom.  We played ping pong and old school video games, bouncing laughter back and forth for hours, ending with a Chopped marathon.  Time with my son, at his request - what more could I really ask for?

Dinner went a bit upset down, when the steaks were still half frozen and falling apart (how is that possible?) but a quick trip to Taco Bell saved the night.  We ended with some family tv time, something rare, since we're never all home together long enough to do so.

As my head hit the pillow, I prayerfully reflected on the fact that with all these blessings, how could I still feel less than?  Why wasn't it enough?

Birthdays are maybe the most selfish day of the year.  The total focus in on you and the anticipation of what others might do to make it special.  And in a year of shifting to selflessness, it seems silly I could get wrapped up in wishing for more.

This morning, I realized part of the issue is that I'm placing my happiness in the hands of others.  I'm depending on them to bring me joy when I know the true source only comes from God.  If I am honest, there isn't an outing, gift or custom cake that would've given me the fulfillment for which I'm yearning.

I am not content with who I am.  

This girl that I see when I look in the mirror isn't what I pictured for 41.  She's aged in ways no magic wrinkle creme can fix.  And in many ways, I appreciate what time has added to me.  There's wisdom and contentedness I didn't have twenty years ago.  But with the lessons learned, it also has me searching for more.

In this process of becoming selfless, I am finding it is more than just giving, but rather, I must push myself to be the best "me"I can be.  If there are flaws, I need to magnify, inspect and adjust, not just sweep aside.

So maybe that is the best gift received yesterday.
Awareness of change needed.  A growing desire to be more.  Transformation from the inside out.

Non-Stop Weekend

Whew!  I don't know that we ever stopped this weekend.  From the moment the kids arrived home from school on Friday, it was go, go, go....birthday party style.

Tina was also fortunate to have a birthday weekend, celebrating since the midnight stroke, coming home from the concert, to a late Sunday night home from a Super Bowl party. 

Oh, to have a teenager's energy!

She'd asked for a hotel pool party with friends on her actual birthday.  Tina brought two bubbly, giggly girls home with her and Noah was thrilled not to be invited.  We weren't settled into the hotel room more than ten minutes, before they were changed into swimsuits, ready to soak in the pool. 

I think we made a total of four trips back and forth between the room and the pool that night, amid snacks and a pizza delivery.  Just about the time I'd get into my Kindle, they'd be ready to move to the next spot.

The lack of sleep from the concert the night before made lights out arrive early though.  Yes, midnight seemed early with three teenage girls - and this tired momma was happy!

We didn't get to sleep in on Saturday morning, due to Noah having a basketball game.  The complimentary Sleep Inn breakfast made up for the early wake-up call.  Tina was in breakfast heaven, having a sampling of all her favorites - french toast, apple juice, boiled eggs and yogurt....all free!  She cracked us up by commenting, "we should come eat here more often!"  Somehow I don't think SI would approve.

Tim got the easy shift, taking Noah home after the game, and I drove away with three excited teens on a trip to the mall.  After about thirty minutes, I was bored of browsing and treated myself to a mint chocolate chip waffle cone.  Comfy seats by Sears beckoned me and I caught up on emails and Ruzzle while letting the girls get their shop on.  Every so often Tina would text me an outfit, asking my opinion.  She's actually a savvy shopper, sticking to a budget and never paying retail if she can help it.  In fact, her skills got me out of my spot to pick up a score on a jeans deal for the guys.

Sunday found us at early service for church, so that we could arrive home to prepare lunch for Tina's family party.  We feasted on her faves - potato soup, fresh strawberry cake and apple cider and spent time laughing, dancing and playing games.  And no sooner had we hugged everyone out the door, than we headed out ourselves to our dear friend's house for some Super Bowl fun.

I'll admit I enjoyed playing games, snacking, and big belly laughs much more than the football, but it was fun to watch the guys rib each other.  Wobbling into the house and plunging into bed at nearly the very end of a Sunday night, meant we soaked up just about every moment the weekend had to offer.

Hopefully our sweet girl went to bed tired but with a smile on her face,

 

knowing in her heart how loved she is.

Deep Fried Joy

Three worn plastic dishes side by side.  Seasonings stirred into flour to just the right sandy color.  Fresh farm eggs cracked, the golden yolk swirling into stark white milk.  Skillets warming.  Fingers caked with flour, goop meeting grit.  The soft sizzle of the oil that greets chicken to pan.

Such was the setting for last night's dinner preparations.  In each step, I could sense the presence and love of my mother-in-law.  Gone from this world two years now, I carry on the tradition of cooking her baby fried chicken for his birthday meal.

If June were here, she would have called Tim yesterday morning and invited him to a lunch he already expected to attend.  He would've eagerly counted the hours at work until the time to drive the short distance to her apartment, where the aroma of fried chicken would meet him in the parking lot.  Hearing him from the breezeway, she'd stand waiting in her small kitchen at a tiny table for two.  Her face would light up at his entrance and he'd envelop her in a giant hug, sneaking a chicken leg behind her back in one swoop.  They'd share a laugh and then a meal with all of his favorites.  The best part though, for Tim, would be her company.

I never attended a birthday lunch, it was their special time, but I can envision it in my mind from the stories he'd tell upon returning home.  Our gift was the fact that he never came back empty handed.  In a faded yellow tupperware container, her name written in cursive across the top, would be those tasty leftovers of fried deliciousness.  This container now lives in my cabinets and I smile upon the memories of the meals she sent to us each time I use it.

My hope is that Tim had a bit of flashback of happy memories with last night's dinner.  His smile, upon presenting him a plateful of crispy chicken, was worth the time spent, mess, and unavoidable grease pops that came in preparing it.  He was giddy with excitement as he bit into the crunchy, yet moist leg.  And it didn't bother me in the least that not a word was said until the very, finger licking, paper towel cleaning finish.

It was my great pleasure to bring him some comfort, a hug from his momma above, and a hefty dose of love on a plate for his birthday.  I pray it was as joy-filled for him, as his enjoyment made it for me.

Let Them Eat Cake!

Exactly two weeks after Christmas is my birthday.  Eleven days later is Noah's.  Two weeks from that, Tina's.  So for six glorious weeks we are surrounded by birthday cake.  And with our birthday-fests, lasting days as they do, cakes are in no short supply!  This week begins our last scrumptious days with the frosted delightful desserts. 

My all-time favorite is red velvet but only if it is made from scratch, super moist, with a note of deep, dark chocolate, and perfectly tart cream cheese frosting.  A few years ago Tim surprised me with one he'd ordered from a friend of a friend.  It was A-mazing!

Noah's favorite is classic.  White cake, vanilla icing.  He actually scoffed that I ordered 1/2 of his sheet cake this year in chocolate (because that's the favored kind of the family).  Not that he had any room to complain considering we also had a cookie cake and ginormous cupcakes from GiGi's his birthday week!  Tina's fave, I have discovered, is strawberry.  Tonight, her actual birthday (#13), we're having strawberry shortcake.  What she doesn't know is that I've also ordered a from-scratch-strawberry cake complete with strawberry filling and strawberry cream cheese icing.  I can't wait for Sunday's party!

All this cake thinking and ordering reminded me of our birthdays growing up.  For us, Mom always made our cakes.  Mine was normally vanilla.  I love chocolate but in a "teenage phase" I thought it cool to be pro-vanilla.  I distinctly remember my 13th birthday cake like it was just yesterday.  It was pink and maybe it was strawberry inside too.  I just remember the pretty pink frosting, pastel candles and candy letters.  Sorting through photos, my memory was pretty spot on!

I also remember posing for a photo, even though I couldn't find it.  That photo is actually why I remember the cake.  Mom had pencil curled my hair for my birthday and I was wearing a soft pink sweater that matched the icing.  I normally hate any photo of me but I remember this one being cute because I actually posed.  ....of course it would be the one I can't locate!

What I'm glad I do have though are the memories of those simple, close family birthday memories complete with homemade cake and icing.  And, I'm thankful I took the time a few years back to scrapbook all those family recipes to keep for generations to come, many in the actual handwriting of the cook.

From my family scrapbook cookbook

Birthday-palooza

In this family, we do birthdays.  I mean, we really DO birthdays.  It's an All-Out-Fest!  Last week was Noah's celebratory birth week.  I say "week" because that's about how long our festivities last.  Truly, it's only 4 days this year but I've been planning for weeks.  So has he.

Rarely does his birthday fall on the weekend so this always results in at least two parties.  His actual birthday was Thursday.  Our tradition is to celebrate simple.  At home.  Just us.  His favorite meal.  One gift.  Special dessert.  His birthday menu was homemade shrimp Alfredo, finished with a chocolate chip cookie cake.  The rest of the night was HIS.  He was master of the remote.  He decided what games we'd play.  It was all things Noah.  And he loved every minute of it, complete with blowing out a "Happy 30th" candle because that is all I had at home!

The weekend found my house invaded by a swarm of tweenage boys.  We caravanned to a nearby hotel for the night so the flock of testosterone could enjoy the indoor pool.  It was an interesting experience, traveling with so many boys at one time.  I will say they were all incredibly polite and well-behaved but still ALL-BOY, from midnight pranks with spray cheese to sneaking salt and soy sauce in their friends' drinks when they weren't looking. 

We made several trips to the pool, broke for pizza in the room, and let them hang in the hotel lobby.  It added to the humor of the weekend that a flock of females, in their same age bracket, were also celebrating at the same hotel.  Directly in the room below us.  Pool time was amusing, as the boys claimed they were "being stalked" by insane girls.  Every boy, including Noah, has a girlfriend back home - who would be thrilled to know, they showed no interest. 

I don't know we made it home the Sunday morning, provided Tim and I maybe had 15-20 minutes sleep per hour.  We'd awake to an uproar of laughter or a stampede of feet to our adjoining room, open the connecting door and remind them of their neighbors, who were also trying to rest.  While nothing was damaged, I do pity the poor maid who had to clean their room the next day, as pillows and sheets sprawled across the floor, which was littered with candy wrappers and empty soda cans.  We left one lonely half damp sock because no boy would claim it.  It took several minutes of investigation just to find the owner of a tshirt and jeans, I didn't have the energy to care about the sock at that point!

I think it was a success as the boys were calling it "Epic" and one even used the phrase, "Noah's bachelor party" when we overheard them in the hall.  In fact, I'm sure the mom's may not speak to me for awhile, as I'm pretty certain this is the request of each of the attendees to do for their upcoming birthdays.  Overall it was a fun night and one I'm sure Noah will remember for years to come.

Sunday we arrived home just in time to ship off the boys and trade them in for family.  The house was then filled all afternoon with screaming cousins, hopped up on cake and ice cream.  We pulled out the "Just Dance" games and got a kick out of everyone who participated.  (Mom - you were the party pooper!)  The winner of each round would challenge the next and I even got Noah out for one dance.  Most of the time he was wrapped up in his new gift - a Kindle Fire.


Before we headed off to bed last night, early because we were all T-I-R-E-D, Noah gave us both a giant bear hug and kiss, thanking us and claiming 2012 as the "best birthday EVER".  I'd say it was a job well done.  Now, to catch my breath and figure out how to top it for 2013!

still not too old or big to sit on Dad's lap!