36 years ago I cried for the first time, breathed for the first time, loved for the first time. A wonderful day of firsts. When you think about it, the day of birth is so amazing in so many ways, it is meant to be celebrated, even all these years later. I have no shame. I am almost 36, and I say it proud. I earned these lines on my face, I earned the aches and pains that plague me. They are rights of passage, and remind me of a life hopefully, well lived. I am so very grateful for my 365x36, and hope and pray that number will grow, and I can write this post as 365x96.
Being someone that likes to milk things out, I was happy to stretch out my birthday demands, and make it a birthday weekend. I guess you can draw it out a little bit too far, as it was my excuse for
Jeremy and I decided to go on a day date as a lead into the birthday weekend. Just me and him. So, we loaded up the bikes, caught the ferry, and biked in the clear September sunshine down on Alki.
We talked, and talked and finally talked ourselves into getting back on our bikes, and burning off our naughty breakfast.
It was one of those perfect mornings where everything falls into place, and after our bike ride we spent the rest of the afternoon perusing through Costco, doing a great job of talking each other into spur of the moment purchases. Oooooo, now that is some 36 year old birthday naughtiness right there. When the words "Birthday" and "Costco" are in the same sentence, you know you are getting old. Sheesh.
Next up was what I always, always request for dinner: Birthday Enchiladas. No birthday would be quite the same without them.
And having a hula hooping girl is always a birthday must, especially one as cute as this:
Dessert, I think, ranks high on the naughty scale. And since I like to bake, I decided to make one of my own birthday desserts: Lemon Buttermilk Cupcakes with Blackberry Buttercream Frosting. I made these and dreamt of the day when I will open up my own shop. It is on my someday list.
When one is as old as I, one can demand a second dessert, and my request was for profiteroles. Naughty x 2. Boy, do I love me some of these. Growing up, we knew these as "Poopy Nuffs." Legend has it, my brother was so excited when my mom made these for my Nana, that when she came over he couldn't remember the word, and out came the words "poopy", and "nuffs", so, they have always been Poopy Nuffs ever since. Feel free to use that enduring term too.
Stuffed to the nines, we went dancing last night, and danced the night away with friends to an awesome live band and a packed house. It is the same group of friends I danced with back in high school, way back when, and I can't tell you how great these lovely ladies make me feel. When I am around them the years melt away, and I am seventeen again. It is like a shot of youth serum, except it hits my heart in a way that makes time loose it's footing. They are that potent, a true birthday treat.
Today, I shared my birthday weekend with my niece, and we went roller skating and skated off the remnants of enchiladas+cupcakes+poopy nuffs+migas for breakfast+pizza for lunch. I grabbed my camera, but with a dead battery so I have no fun photos to share, but she sure looked cute, my little 8 year old niece and I wish her a very very, happy birthday, and we all had a lot of fun with you today, and love you very much, Savannah. XOXO
Well, I get one more day to expand the naughty.
Tomorrow I turn 36. And I will wake up, and maybe surprise everyone and maybe even myself by not being naughty at all...
There will be a cupcake on my breakfast plate.