This weekend was the not-so surprise 30th birthday party for our dear friend Nathan (counterpart to Kristin of Walking By Faith Blog). Since his birthday is so close to Christmas, Kristin wanted to pull off something special for him specifically for his birthday. As a fellow almost-Christmas baby, I totally supported her effort. It’s never fun to have your birthday and Christmas combined year in and year out (I mean, everyone else gets two completely separate days!). And, when you’re as old as Nate, it’s about time someone throws you a bone.
Courtny and I were a part of the decoy team to try and keep Nathan off the trail, however that’s easier said than done when you’re dealing with a self-proclaimed surprise ruiner. Not only did Nathan drill us for answers all week long, he decided to just be stubborn. Luckily he’s a smart guy, and went along with our decoy plans (but not without a little kicking and screaming).
In the end, Kristin pulled off an awesome dinner at Buca di Beppo, complete with all of Nathan’s family and friends.
You know you’re an old man when your 30th birthday party includes four children. 😉
I also managed to not even take a photo of the birthday boy. Good job, Samantha.
This weekend was also momentous because it was moving weekend for my parents. I can’t help but say that carting boxes of stuff from one house to another (94 steps according to my grandpa) made me feel a little sad. The new house is beautiful, but it still feels a little like a vacation home. So, in an effort to incorporate some of the old normalcy, we decided to put up the Christmas tree.
That seemed like a great idea, but there was one hurdle. This is a new Christmas tree. And it’s 12 feet tall.
My husband is 6’4″, and is standing on a 6′ ladder… just for perspective.
Holy gigantic Christmas tree.
To be fair, if the tree was any smaller it would look stupid in the room. In a hilarious effort, complete with scratched arms and broken ornaments, the tree is now standing. It’s probably never coming down.
Note to my sisters: marry giants.
Keeping with tradition, my dad watched the effort from the couch. Dorothy helped. 🙂
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