Birthday Week

This week it was my birthday.

I love birthdays.  A celebration of another year here on earth,  and I feel lucky.  It’s a privilege to get older that not everyone gets to experience.  And then there’s the birthday cake.  Not that I need an excuse to eat cake, after all it’s always someone’s birthday somewhere but on your own it’s basically an open licence to consume as much as your little heart desires without a second thought to the appropriateness of the amount.

I was also whisked away on a surprise trip by Husband.  This is something that has never happened in 18 years together so it was obviously lovely if not a little unnerving.  He actually wasn’t going to tell me until the day we left which in itself is a bit terrifying but thankfully was forced to own up a couple of weeks in advance because I nearly planned something with my friends for that weekend.  He still wouldn’t disclose the location or nature of the surprise though.  Winding me up telling me I’d need a wetsuit and hiking boots and that the trip would include tree climbing.  Bearing in mind my idea of a lovely time is eating and drinking in the sun somewhere whilst wearing a nice frock, this information was starting to bother me slightly. We were due to leave at lunchtime on Saturday and by Friday evening I still knew nothing and was verging on a nervous breakdown.  I’m not the sort of woman that relishes the element of surprise on a large scale.  

Don’t get me wrong I love a bit of  a…

 ‘’Surprise, heres 20 quid go and treat yourself’’

Or

 ‘’Surprise I’ve cooked tea tonight so you don’t have to’’

 Or

’’Surprise, I’ve made you a cuppa’’

But I draw the line at anything bigger.  Most girls that I know like to plan.  Plan what to wear, plan what time they will begin getting ready, plan what to pack depending on the activity and location.  I don’t think I’m wrong when I say we like to know what’s happening at least a few days in advance so we can look forward to it. Maybe get our nails done or do some tanning.  I know for me that’s definitely a big thing. Even though that’s not what happened on this occasion, I think he sensed I was becoming more and more tense and so  just as I was on the brink of losing consciousness through the stress of it all, he told me to pack a nice frock and that I wouldn’t be needing outdoor activity gear after all.

Phew! Well Thank God for that. 

It turned out he had put together a lovely day of eating and drinking at some select  places.  He had booked a room at a gorgeous little pub we visited 8 years ago by accident on his 40th birthday.  Somewhere we always wanted to go back to but somehow had never managed to get round to it.  He even arranged the sunshine.

Husband tries desperately hard to annoy the shit out of me 23 hours a day and to make me hate him, but I don’t.  In fact I quite like him.  Love him even.  He’s one of life’s good ones and I feel very lucky.

Side note: Some will be reading this thinking how weird it is that we are married yet I’m reluctant in saying I love him, and I suppose it is but its our thing and its what we do. We pretend to not really like each other when the truth is there’s no one else in the world I’d rather pretend to hate.

I booked the week off work to fully enjoy my birthday because in our house we like to have a birthday week.  It’s only right I think, and would be rude not to. So following my lovely break away I’ve had a few days relaxing in the sun, avoided housework as much as possible except to wash a few pairs of pants and had a huge family Bar B Q on my actual birthday.

I’m a year older, a year wiser and definitely a year saggier. I’m also more grateful than ever for my gorgeous babies, comfortable home and wonderful family. Oh, and for my mediocre Husband. Im joking!