Happy birthday to me! (weekend recap)

^^This, this mixer right here, see it? It's mine. This is my KitchenAid Artisan mixer in the color Espresso.

I almost don't want to type any actual words in this post. This picture of my new KitchenAid mixer perfectly sums up all of the wonder and splendor that was my birthday weekend. Words cannot do my birthday weekend justice. This piece of machinery right here is the physical manifestation of pure joy and happiness.

That being said, I'm not going to go into great detail about my 26th birthday ... with words. Rather, I think I'm going to let the pictures I took do the talking. They're pretty self-explainatory and can say so many things that I can't.

But first, I must give a shout out to my mom, sister, and darling husband who chipped in and bought me my new best friend. I've been talking about getting my own KitchenAid mixer for YEARS and I'm pretty sure I've even blogged about it. Clay kept telling me, "Maybe for Christmas someday" or "Maybe when we have kids I can get you one for your first Mother's Day" (so what, NEVER!?) and I had pretty much all but given up hope. Then on Sunday, which also happened to be my Mom's 62nd birthday, I was given the best gift any 26 year-old woman with not a whole lot going for her could ask for. After my mom and I finished opening our joint birthday weekend gifts, she disappeared into the laundry room because she "forgot" something. A few moments later, she came bursting back out of the room with a giant box wrapped in lime green wrapping paper. My knees buckled. Only one amazing thing could fix in a box that large ...

There were tears. And shrieking. And the earth shattering sound of all my wildest dreams coming true in one instant, beautiful moment. It was dramatic. And awesome. And I am so thankful for having a family who wants me to be happy.

I should probably bake them cookies or something WITH MY NEW MIXER.

Nevertheless, while the mixer was most definitely the icing on the cake (and my goodness, there was SO MUCH CAKE this weekend), my entire birthday was memorable and amazing. On Friday, my actual day of birth, my mom called me at the usual 7:53 a.m. (the time I was born) to sing me happy birthday. Then I literally sprang out of bed and changed my clothes to go out on the trail for my final long run before I start tapering for the Indianapolis Monumental Half marathon. When people asked me what I was going to do on my day off of work and I respond with "I'm going to run 12 miles", they looked at me like I was stupid. Most people don't want to do anything laborious or diarrhea-inducing on their birthdays, but not me. Not only did I run 12 miles in record time, I did it on what had to be the most gorgeous October morning in the history of October mornings. I was literally skipping through piles of leaves and giggling. I probably looked creepy.

I had every intention of going to a yoga class at noon to totally zen out on my special day, but I arrived to class exactly 2-minutes late and they locked the doors. Fighting the urge to throw a "but it's my birthdaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay" hissy fit and start banging on the doors, I just went home and took the longest, most glorious nap on the planet.

Then Clayton came home and showered me with gifts and steak. That's right—my man made me the most absolutely delicious steak dinner I've ever had in my whole life complete with sauteed mushrooms, mashed potatoes, and steamed green beans. We cracked open a bottle of my favorite shiraz to wash it all down before continuing the celebration with cake and Chunky Monkey ice cream. Then we snuggled up on the couch, me in my new Victoria's Secret cheetah pajama pants (courtesy of my hubby) to watch my new DVD of Bridesmaids (also courtesy of my hubby).

We're barbarians. We don't sit at the table.

The next evening, we met up with 12 of my closest friends at Buffalo Wild Wings because if there's one thing I like more than cake, it's buffalo sauce. Two of my absolute best friends from high school made a 4-hour drive to be there with me. I felt so blessed.

Sunday Clay and I drove to see my family and celebrate my mother's own birthday (I didn't call her at the time she was born like she did for me because I don't know what time she was born and I wasn't even there when it happened ... technicality). We exchanged gifts and then headed to a local pumpkin patch to select pumpkins to carve on our camping trip next weekend. We walked through a corn maze for like a thousand years, threw corn at each other, pet pigs, picked pumpkins, and took no less than a million pictures on my digital camera.

I went to sleep last night with a stray piece of hay in my hair and realized that I had, quite frankly, one of the best birthdays ever. I've had 26 birthdays now and my 26th definitely cracks my top 5 list ... not like I can ever remember my first 5 birthdays ...

And then this email exchange took place between Clay and I today:

Clay: "How was lunch?"
Me: "Good. Just did my usual: drove home, ate some food, and let Joey out."
Clay: "Sounds nice. Hey, remind me when I get home from work that I need to find my softball shirt so I can wash it for the game tonight."
Me: "Ah, I was going to look for it for you when I was home, but I totally forgot because I saw my leftover cake."
Clay: "Of course you did ... "


  1. Yay I LOOOOOVED this post! It was funny and I am so happy you had such an awesome birthday!!!!


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