16 Candles

So tomorrow is my birthday. I'm going to be 39 (for the first time) and it's trippin' my sh_ out.

For the record, my adorable step-dad would prefer I didn't swear, so to honor his readership and the fact that he cares enough to tell me his opinion, I am going to ix-nay on the four letter words from here on out. I mean, I think you'll still effin' know what I mean, but perhaps LCD has just become a softer, sweeter place.

Birthday's are just weird. First of all, a lil shout out of huge thanks to my Mom! Whatup Momma! Thanks for um, you know, OUCH. I've realized that instead of this day being all about me, I think it's time to share just a little bit of the good stuff with the woman who suffered mightily to bring my tiny pink butt to the planet. In fact, now that I know the score, it's high time to write 38 thank you notes for the last 38 celebrations. Damn. But now I know.

And my Mom was awesome at throwing birthday parties, I've got seriously big shoes to fill in that department. I think my high school friends started to look forward to the fun party coming a few weeks after Christmas, 'cause she always rocked it.  Let's run down a few, shall we?

• Sweet 16 was a bitchin' 50's themed party and we all wore poodle skirts. My Dad and his best-friend DJ'd the event with all of 'their' music and we cleared the dining room out and did our best swing-dancin'. Only trouble had to do with Dad's BF who was visiting for a few weeks and trying to sober-up down in Florida. Dontcha know he picked that night to relapse into a pool of booze which turned him into a puddle. The net-net was a really uncomfortable moment where he swerved me around the dance floor and pawed the back of my poodle. THAT was a pretty crappy high school moment. Ahem, yea. Kinda dark, sorry about that. Also need to apologize for an unfortunate rash of alliteration. The sad fact is that he died later that year from complications from his alcoholism.
  

• For 17 she did a super cool scavenger hunt. Since we were all driving then, she had clues hidden all over town. One required a purchase at the McDonald's drive-through for (how she got them to participate is beyond me) and a crazy-dig-up-something-thing on the side of a lonely stretch of a brand new road. It was an all afternoon affair of driving and laughing and some actual thinking to solve her smarty-pants clues. My dad even built a rough little wooden treasure chest to hold all of the goodies for the team that won. In fact, I still have it in all of it's splinteree glory. Wait a minute, I have to disclose this lil tidbit...it currently holds all of my journals. Ha! How precious right? About time to retrieve that from storage for the old bonfire. Godforbid anyone read those. Oh wait, isn't that what this blog is? E-journal 2009-2010.
  

• 18 was the best. To celebrate my then new ability to gamble, the rents threw a Gambling Night. No kidding. They rented all of these tables including craps, black-jack and roulette. Their friends were the dealers all smiles in bow-ties. There were lessons on how to play the games and we all got big piles of tiny pink and blue monopoly money. Then we bid on prizes at the end of the night, the most memorable was the giant Hershey's kiss. What a fun night for us big shot seniors to get all fanced up in our fancy-wear. She even served us caviar and sparkling apple cider as champagne. Genius.

I think maybe the last birthday I looked forward to was 1996 when I turned 25 and could like, finally rent a car. Other than that, they have been steadily losing their charm. I do have to say the cute hubs rocked 30 pretty hard by surprising me by flying my best-friend from HS into town. He dropped me off at a massage place and when I walked into the heavy incensed air and soothing music - there she was. I almost fainted. He then sent us on a scavenger hunt around town (hmm, a theme) which was hilarious and amazing and then surprised me again that night with twenty-five of my favorite people at my favorite restaurant. He was already, you know, my fiance at the time - but his stock went up pretty high after that one.

So to summarize, I guess birthdays can be aiight. Honestly I'm already mentally blowing by these days and the hubs birthday in February because I'm all a quiver about BHB's birthday in April. It just feels like it ain't about us anymore. And as you can see that's a pretty good idea. Plans for the weekend are minimal but I will be enjoying one of the last weekends that my folks will be around. Let's not talk about the mighty withdrawal that is coming when they actually depart, it's just best not to. Nope, let's not. Let's just enjoy not-turning-40 for one more year.

For fun here are a few pics from birthday's past.

That's the BF. Even though we haven't lived in the same state since we were 20, we often manage to celebrate our birthday's together. This is the birthday after the toughest Christmas ever, 2006. Drinking was an excellent idea then, or so I thought. I love bar self-portraits.

Oh lookie!  Here I am enjoying another vice that I no longer imbibe in. If you ever go by FU Sugar you'll see that it's going ah, pretty well. I've only slipped a few times since Halloween. Tomorrow is tempting though. Look at that cake! Be strong Jane, be strong.

By the way, I have to apologize for all of the naval gazing and bio-pic quality of recent posts. I guess this entry into a new year as a new parent is creating the space for too much rumination.

And finally, don't forget to vote in Movie Monday. You'll make my whole birthday with your vote. Or a comment. OR if you really want to make an old lady happy, toss a few bucks on our movie. (or see sidebar to left) Time is growing short.

Ain't that the truth?

Yours in cusp of the middle age,

Love Actually

Tuesday was our 8th wedding anniversary, and it's got me spinning a bit this week about the love of my life...the mister, the cute hubs, papa to the big-headed-baby. In fact, come to think of it, he is the reason that baby has a big head. No paternity question here.

I've heard and read that the first year of the baby is often the hardest year of a marriage. And while I'm absolutely on board with that statement in as much as the first year of the baby is likely one of the hardest year of a life therefore by definition impacting marriage, I'd also suggest that it's a simplistic and flat point of view. So far this has been the most interesting, okay hard, let's go with topsy-turvey year of our marriage but in the most explosively beautiful way. It's the emotional equivalent of going from the crayola box of 8 colors to the ginourmous box of say 120. Seriously, it's that good. And there's a sharpener in the back.

I've never experienced this aquamarine shade of sweet. Or this brick red shade of anger. Or this much raw umber all over everything! But it really does require the help of the metallic crayons and an unwieldy number of those wax sticks o' goodness to find all of the subtle ways that I newly love the man. The way he shows up. The way he sits on the glider footrest and rocks the boy and me while we attempt first round of babysleep. The way he makes a killer bowl of oatmeal. The way he got us through the constant weeping and freaky-deaky nature of my bout with PPD with grace and gentle suggestions of homeopathic cures. He's a gem this guy, I am a fawking lucky person.

So in recovering from the madness of last Sunday night we stumbled into the day that marked eight years since we hitched n' stuff and it passed with not much fanfare. Hubs worked, I posted a "hey we're an old couple check us out' status update on Facebook and you know, that was more or less it. However (comma) we are going on a DATE on Sunday night. (Gasp!) That's right, a date. It's all thanks to my dear friend who gave me a coupon for two nights of babysitting at our baby shower. While I always thought that was pretty cool, I had no idea the true value until BHB showed up and I realized that going out together ever again was going to be virtually impossible since we are living a no-extended-family-in-town life.

And as y'all know, I've hired a babysitter in recent weeks and the value of the gift is even more apparent. That sitter thang is a luxury item! After dinner, popcorn and such, a date is pretty much the equivalent of a mortgage payment. But more than that, how can I trust anyone else sit and listen to the monitor with rapt attention in the dark of night? But since 8 years of marriage is certainly cause for celebration I guess it's all about that coupon, my adorable friend and a leap of faith. Yes. We are going people, going out, to dinner and a movie. And I know I'm supposed to like read the Variety daily since I'm a big ol film geek and totally know what movie to see, but well... you know. Help a sister out. What should we go see?

Before I go, has anyone else noticed how yummy this night is? Here in LA it's pretty balmy and tree sway-ee and the moon is just soft and delish on everything it touches. If you're wondering...yes, we bravely went outside into our front yard and despite the excitement of the week, it felt totally fine to be there. What a difference a few days makes. And if you don't know what the heck I'm talking about, scroll it on down and check it on out. (I've already linked to the last post so in all fairness I just can't do it again...)

I'm leaving you with these two gorgeous images. One is of the wedding quilt that my dear,  talented cousin made for us. This is the first anniversary we celebrate with it as it took her 7 years to make. You can see why due to it's magical magnificence and ridiculously amazing craftsmanship. It's like hanging out in a museum having this thing in my house.

And this is a glimpse of a recent sweet moment. You can see why I'm such a fan of my man. He's John Lennon to our Baby Yoko.