Monday, January 5, 2015

I'm 30!

While I'm all over the christmas recaps like a fat kid on cake, 
I'm a little slow on my own birthday recap. 



On New Year's Day, at 8:22am...
I turned 30!


A whole new decade!
A new age range of boxes to check on surveys! 


Honestly, it doesn't feel that different. 

I had a conversation with a coworker long ago about turning 30. 
She's 6 months older than me, and, as a single childless woman, she explained how unnerving 30 felt. She described it as a "time is running out" panic. (In my opinion, she has nothing to worry about). So I suppose that the fact I'm married with a child - which was one of my main goals in life - explains why turning 30 isn't a big deal. 


And more importantly... 
I absolutely LOVE having my birthday on New Year's Day. 
As a kid, I ALWAYS had my birthday off school. 
And it was just far enough away from Christmas that we had a separate celebration. 


As a college-student / young adult, 
it was AWESOME because it was PARTY PARTY PARTY everywhere 
AND, when the clock struck 12, everyone would yell 
"Happy New Year and Happy Birthday!" 

As an attention-loving Extrovert, this was the perfect birthday. 


Aaron's due date was March 17th, St Patrick's Day, 
and although we are in no way Irish 
(I'm British with some mutt and Adam is Polish Jew with some mutt) 
how fun would it be to party up your birthday on St Patrick's Day?!?!
Instead, he was 6 days late. Womp womp. 



 
Back to me... 

After another Mommy Day Off 
(which included lunch with my college girls and my first ever gel manicure), 
my sister graciously offered to watch Aaron so we could go out to dinner with friends to my favorite local Belgium cafe, 
followed by Casino Night at another friend's house. 
It's all a little fuzzy, but I know there was overflowing food and champagne everywhere.



And, of course, we have absolutely NO PICTURES to prove that ANY of this occurred. 
I take 1,000,000 photos of my child, 
but 1 photo with my husband? 
Nada. 


The next morning was a bunch of Advil, 
pancakes in bed, 
and lying around on the couch. 





The later morning included a trip to King of Prussia, 
where I snapped this photo of Adam and Aaron in Nordstrom: 


I swoon over father-son cuteness.


Then, armed with the superpower of Starbuck's chai latte's caffeine content, 
I spent the the afternoon boxing up Christmas decorations and cleaning the house. 

Adam commented that I celebrate my birthday "wrongly." 
Because every year I clean. 
But that's just the person I am. 


After Aaron's nap, 
it was off to my parents house for birthday dinner / very-belated Christmas exchange. 
Where, amongst other things
I was gifted with my Philosophy Pink-Iced Animal Cracker 
and enough Cutco knives that I could survive a zombie apocalypse. 



 It was a good day, but the real highlight came during the weekend... 



Let me preface this with Adam is NOT a social planner. 
Or a romantic planner. 
Or really any sort of planner at all. 
As a Class A Control Freak, this works well as I maintain the role of Almighty Planner. 

So back in early December when he said 
"we need a babysitter for January 3rd, I've got something planned," 
I was like WHOA, WHAT?


To say I'd been looking forward to this surprise is an understatement. 

I was ecstatic. 

Then, Friday night, after a girls date at the Movie Tavern, 
I woke up at 4am VIOLENTLY ill with the stomach bug. 
I'm talking like 20 emergency oh-no-I-don't-know-if-I'll-make-it trips to the bathroom.  
(because what's a blog with TMI?)
Followed by horrific-stabbing-stomach-pains. 
(And yes, this was perfect karma to my bad attitude in December)
 

Saturday, I was DETERMINED to not let the illness ruin my surprise night. 
I took TWO 2-hour + naps in the morning and afternoon. 
(You know you're sick when you nap more than your toddler.) 
And attempted to eat plain white rice. 

Adam, still not spoiling the surprise, said there was a "separate dinner component" that was not the "main event" that we could cancel. I didn't want to, but around 2pm, with tears streaming down my face, I admitted there was no way I was going to make it to a dinner when I could barely keep down rice. 


So Adam canceled our 4-course gourmet meal (later found out at Spraga) and I was devastated, but determined to make it to the main event (whatever that may be)

Saturday 4pm, I pumped my body full of Zofran, Pepto Bismal, and Advil, and got ready. 
My body was so physically exhausted that I couldn't hold up the hair dryer to dry my hair. 
And had to sit in the floor to do my makeup. 
And takes "rests" after each makeup application. 

At 7pm, I was dressed and ready with an extra set of underwear in my coat pocket
(because... you never know) 
and we were in the car to Philadelphia. 


The surprise? 
The Philadelphia Orchestra with Cirque de Soleil! 

(pre-show pic, no photography allowed during the show, of course. 
and our seats were first row of the balcony - PERFECT)

In short, a PHENOMENAL performance by the Philadelphia Orchestra 
(I mean seriously, absolutely beautiful
and each piece was accompanied by a 
BREATH-TAKING performance by 1-2 Cique de Soleil performers - 
sometimes on-stage and sometimes performing incredible acrobatics way above. 
It was one of those "WOW" shows, 
where halfway through, I even forget that I'm violently ill!



The feats these performers can do - CRAZZZZYYYY.
I could train for 10 years and not perform 15 seconds of their routines. 

 I will absolutely never forget it.  
I never knew this kind of combination show existed. 


And that's how I turned 30. 
Violently ill and the Show of my Life.




1 comment:

  1. So many highs and lows of this post! I'm sorry your violent illness tried to interfere with Adam's big plans, but glad you were able to enjoy them after all. I had a bad reaction to some medicine a few years ago (affectionately nicknamed Vomit Fest 2011) when we visited NYC, and I will always remember sitting uncomfortably in the balcony watching "Phantom of the Opera," sweating profusely and plotting how to make a run for the bathroom without barfing on the people sitting next to us. We left at intermission and missed the second half of the show BUT I didn't throw up on anyone, so it was a win.

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