I love that historically my birthday lasts several days, in the very least, and a week or two at the very best. This time around, I had a full week-long celebration. Well, not every day, but the festivities were spread out over a week. It may have also seemed longer because I keep receiving presents. I unwrapped one shower's worth of wedding gifts, a few actual wedding gifts, and then had my first birthday party (a combo affair with my sister-in-law, who's special day precedes mine by twenty-four hours). I kept receiving birthday gifts and cards in the mail all week, along with wedding packages left outside my door by the UPS guy. Although Kyle didn't wrap my gift, per se, it was still somewhat like opening a present, and Cat had a beautifully packaged gift for me, as well (this past weekend). Sunday, I came home to a surprise wedding shower at my Bible study. God bless those girls. So you see, it's been an entire week of gift getting.
This marks the beginning of my 26th year. Twenty-five was so daggone good that I have feared 26 cannot keep up or top it. But truth be told, very shortly into my 26th year, every other year will be topped. We have 3 weeks, less than, actually, until our wedding day. I realized yesterday that every day I can't be with Kyle is now simply annoying. It's lame. But there's still plenty to keep me busy -- what with the dress steaming fiasco, the pinched nerve in my back and subsequent pain that causes me to gimp and hobble around, the car accident I was involved in on Saturday (it was not my fault--she backed into us and we were not moving), and the picture order not going through. I have itineraries to write and people to contact because they didn't RSVP and a billion thank you notes to write (already...geesh! Thank you everyone...that's the precursor.).
Kyle has proven in the last year that his surprises are worth having, so I continue to let him make plans and I try not to be too nosy. As is typical, the day of the event or plan, he makes me take guesses as to what these things could be. Being one who hates guessing (I think it ruins the surprise), I started making stuff up. "What did you get me?" I asked, "well, I'm sure it's a baby tiger." He thought that set the bar a little too high. "If that's not it, I'm sure you're taking me flying somewhere" (you know he flies planes, or he can anyway). He didn't like that one, either. More realistically, on the last guess, I thought maybe a concert -- we love music. But that wasn't it either.
Turns out, we went to a great bistro/diner in Fountain Square (Shelbi or something like that) and had the most amazing smoked dinner ever. Smoked portobello mushroom with goat cheese and I got the best smoked pork loin ever. The veggies were perfectly al dente. Post dinner, we walked a bit and then headed down to an underground Duckpin Bowling alley below the restaurant. In 1950's decor, this place was incredibly old -- restored wood, retro wall hangings, and funny guys behind the counter. Although bowling with a 10 lb. ball is no longer feasible for my broken wrists, this was perfect. The balls are the size of a shotput, I would guess, and while you might think it'd be easier than regular bowling, my scores were oddly parallel to the "real" game.
The weekend was full of laziness and laughter -- two of my favorite weekend activities, thus even better on a birthday weekend.
If I wanted to be honest, I'd say my birthday rocked this year. There's just nothing quite like being with the one you love. And having him surprise you multiple times in a few days.
It's going to be a fantabulous year.
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