This month my dearest Mr. R turned the big THREE-OH. Boy did I have plans for an epically awesome birthday. One that he would never forget, we were going to party like it was 1999. Decorations, cake, thoughtful prezzies, surrounded by friends and family chatting about how much we care about Mr. R.
How it really went down:
Wednesday (the actual "BIRTH DAY"): Because my schedule has been full of school (literally before sunrise, to just after dinner I'm gone) and the birthday of my eternal companion doesn't hold any power to change my school schedule, I made secretive plans with Mr. R's mom to come whisk him and the chittlins away for an evening of birthday festivities without me. That way Mr. R wouldn't have to make his own birthday dinner and could enjoy a relaxing evening with his parents, despite my absence.
BUT he was stressed out about a test he had to take in his science class and was planning on going to a study session that night so I had to blow the surprise. Because of the stress and it being so late when they actually went to dinner the kids and Mr. R were in less then ideal moods. I saw them for about 2 minutes just as they were pulling away in the PRIUS.
Thursday: Me apologizing for him missing his study session, and for having a less then perfect time at his parents house. But he was able to convince me that we need to go out and took me on an unplanned date for pizza with my brother and his fiance (CONGRATULATIONS!!).
Friday: I had planned to take the kids to the in-laws and secretly take Mr. R to lunch after our classes, but realized I had double booked Friday and instead had to go to lab. ~yay lab~
Saturday: Went birthday shopping with the kids and a family friend. For the family party on Sunday, we bought pie at a great pie place in town, because he requested pie not cake... I wanted to get him lemon mirangue or banana cream, but they didn't have any left so we settled on Country apple (my recipe is better...) and chocolate cream. We even managed to go out to eat with each other and I'll admit it was quite fun. Upon our return home he accidentally happened upon his the gifts the chittlins had so carefully chosen for him ruining the surprise.
Saturday night: Me sick with a fever.
Sunday: Me, still sick with a fever. After skipping out on church I realized that there was no way I was going to be hosting a birthday party. Basically Mr. R and a family friend cooked his birthday dinner. It was really quiet delicious, but it doesn't change the fact that I felt bad that he had to cook his own birthday dinner.
WELL, Mr R, I LOVE YOU. I'm sorry your 30th birthday "week" was a bust. We can always make up for it next year!
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