The Birthday Girl

The Birthday Girl

I celebrated another birthday this week which meant Britten was working feverishly to pull off an epic birthday celebration despite the challenges of making birthday’s special in a foreign land. And I must say, despite the odds, he pulled it off.

The boys wanted to have a voice in making the celebration special so they whisked me off to IHOP for breakfast in lieu of cooking.

Over breakfast, Breck poured chocolate syrup into the miniature milk containers that normal people use for coffee in a desperate attempt to make chocolate milk. Sad, I know. He worked diligently whipping up .30 ounces of chocolate milk at a time and I let him because….well, it was my birthday.

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I ordered chocolate pancakes and reminisced about the good ol’ days when it was acceptable to order chocolate pancakes with chocolate chips, smothered in whipped cream and ignored the fact that I’m now a grown woman who should order something sensible like an egg white omelette. Now you know where Breck gets his chocolate milk obsession from. Guilty as charged.

Warning! Proceed with caution. Fresh out of bed with not a stitch of make-up photo ahead. IMG_2867

Britten surprised me later that evening with a full blown birthday celebration. There were gifts, sparkly wrapping paper, birthday songs, loads of artwork from the boys and a double doozie cake from the Cookie Company with the word “birthday” spelled as two words rather than one and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Such a great reminder of where we are and our crazy life.

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We’ve been extremely fortunate to have a friend whose job has him in our city for the summer. And, he was brave enough to take on all five of our boys while we went out on a real date. No highchairs, no diaper bags, no items from the kid’s menu and no forks flying across the table over dinner. It was delightful.

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The most laborious decision I had to ponder all day was what kind of cheesecake to order after dinner.

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My sweet husband, on the other hand, had his work cut out for him. Stores, restaurants, etc. here are segregated. Some places only men can enter and others, only women (or a man accompanying a woman/a family) can enter.

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 I’m still not exactly sure how Britten managed to get it done but he did and surprised me with a swimsuit cover up and a full length mirror because I take the one down off the bathroom wall every. single. time. I need to apply makeup. Problem solved.

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You know, turning 38 isn’t so bad when you’ve got a crew like this to celebrate your special day.

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