"How about a weekend away at a spa with your girlfriends?" I asked Sharon about how she wanted to celebrate her 40th birthday.
"No, I want to do something as a family," she replied. Only someone who leaves the house everyday before the kids wake up could say something like this and mean it. Sharon meant it.
So that's why Friday afternoon found the five of us driving north to the Catskills, chasing an ice storm, to spend the weekend with four other families in the cabins of Big Indian, New York, a town so named because apparently a large Native American man was found dead there long ago, too far from the ass end of anything to survive alone. As a favor to us, Victoria waited until we were on the Interstate before she horked all over herself. The birthday girl grabbed a box of tissues, unfastened her safety belt, and climbed into the back seat, saying "Keep driving. Just keep driving," as she went.
It was a rocky start to what turned out to be a fantastic weekend. It was my job to bring the food, and every one else's to bring the alcohol. "Bring enough for everybody," I told each person separately, and they did. I think. It's all pretty blurry now. We ate, played, drank, hooted, and hollered for the whole three days, pausing only rarely to wipe tiny bottoms and noses. The child-ridden among us tried to pretend we were childless and the childless tried to pretend they were charmed by our small people's dirty faces and unkempt hair.
And everybody simply kept their distance from Victoria.
The birthday girl, all forty years of her, was toasted every which way but up, and topped the weekend off the last night by cooking for us her signature dish: Assorted vegetables boiled in kelp broth. It tastes much better than it sounds, but how could it not?
On our way out of town Sunday, we drove to the only hill nearby that we were told would enough snow for sledding, and it did, just barely, but what it had in greater numbers were "No Sledding" signs and, after thirty minutes or so, security guards. And let me just say that, if you are ever wondering how to make a newly-middle-aged woman feel twenty-years younger almost instantly, you should arrange to get her kicked off private property by a security guard. She made us all high-five her before we got back in the car.
In fact, the whole weekend was such an unparalleled delight that, on our way home, Sharon challenged me to come up with a better plan for my own 40th birthday, less than a year away. She had to speak her challenge loudly to be heard over Victoria singing Christmas carols into the puke bucket we tied around her neck, but I didn't need to think long on my reply.
"I want a weekend away at a spa with your girlfriends," I yelled back.
Happy Birthday, The Mom!
Posted by: Amelia | December 16, 2008 at 12:40 AM
I can see what you mean... how do people know you haven't baked a penis-shaped cookie for your best guy friend?
Happy Birthday, Sharon! Next time you get kicked off private property, ask to be cuffed and put in the back of the rent-a-cop car!
Posted by: loren | December 16, 2008 at 02:36 AM
Yes, that certainly is bothersome. As we all know, 'spa weekends with the girlfriends' translates to 'weekends of hot lesbian action at a spa involving both lesbians AND hot action on their part'. Now if a guy goes to a place like that with his friends and they all sit in a hot tub and watch ESPN, hell, strike up the front page news: HOMOSEXUAL ORGIES RAMPANT AT LOCAL SPA; YOUR CHILDREN AT RISK.
So, yeah. I see your point.
Posted by: You can call me, 'Sir' | December 16, 2008 at 07:56 AM
Happy Birthday Sharon and an early Happy Birthday wish for you! ;-) And awesome that no one else got sick, it totally wouldn't have ended that way if it was my birthday!
Posted by: VHMPrincess | December 16, 2008 at 08:02 AM
Happy 4oth, Sharon! The Mom! Whatever!
Posted by: becky from sc | December 16, 2008 at 08:51 AM
Aw I love Big Indian, NY! Great parties there in highschool/college. Sounds like you had one of your own too!
And I may or may not have been asked to leave that very same sledding hill...
Posted by: CourtneyRyan | December 16, 2008 at 09:07 AM
I love this post and I so love reading about your family. Is that weird? I feel like that's weird. Happy Birthday The Mom!
Posted by: Meg | December 16, 2008 at 09:09 AM
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA
Posted by: VICTORIA | December 16, 2008 at 09:13 AM
HAPPY BIRTGHDAY MAMA
Posted by: LILA | December 16, 2008 at 09:16 AM
Awesome. Happy Birthday, the Mom. And, the Dad, may all your gay 40th birthday dreams come true.
Posted by: Tammy | December 16, 2008 at 09:27 AM
happy birthday you
Posted by: Casey | December 16, 2008 at 09:45 AM
Happy birthday, Sharon!
It wouldn't be a party if there wasn't puke involved. And, apparently, penises. Gotta have penises.
Posted by: Burgh Baby | December 16, 2008 at 09:54 AM
There is a differece? Gee. I don't see it.
Posted by: Clare | December 16, 2008 at 10:28 AM
I'm curious if the reason the sidebar is advertising a suicide hotline has to do with the 40th birthday (happy birthday!), the puking kids, or perhaps the sheer sadness felt at not being able to express oneself due to gender roles in modern society :).
Posted by: Jessica | December 16, 2008 at 10:47 AM
Oh, Jessica, I thought it was because of the twins' preschool 3-week Xmas holiday.
Posted by: Brian | December 16, 2008 at 11:01 AM
Happy Birthday, Sharon! I was so sure Brian was older than you. Maybe he's just prematurely aged from the all-day drinking.
Posted by: alice | December 16, 2008 at 11:20 AM
Love the blog - just found it. For your 40th you could do what I did - threw my own party. Invited everyone I knew and said "bring something to share - if we get 50 bags of doritos, so be it!" I made the beer, folks bought food and we partied (in our church no less!). No stress on my wife to plan a suprise and I got what I wanted. Oh, and karaoke too. Great after 3 hours of drinking.
Posted by: Riv | December 16, 2008 at 11:35 AM
Riv: Karaoke, 50 bags of Doritos, and church. You could just friggin' script my nightmares, couldn't you?
Okay, maybe the Doritos wouldn't be so bad.
Posted by: Brian | December 16, 2008 at 11:38 AM
Doritos + Victoria = horribleness
At least, that would be my assumption. Am I wrong?
(Oh, and Happy Birthday, The Mom!)
Posted by: Nicole | December 16, 2008 at 12:12 PM
Thanks for ruining my salad. I was reading this while I ate my lunch, and when I read the "Author's Note," the gulp of water I had taken moments before spewed out of my mouth and onto my salad. Thanks a lot. (It was totally worth it, though!)
Posted by: NewToThisWholeThing | December 16, 2008 at 12:46 PM
Happy Birthday Sharon!
Posted by: Colleen | December 16, 2008 at 01:52 PM
Happy Birthday, The Mom. Now you don't have to spend another weekend with your family until you're 41.
Posted by: Joy | December 16, 2008 at 01:53 PM
Unitarian Church so we could party guilt free!!
Posted by: Riv | December 16, 2008 at 05:13 PM
Happy Birthday Sharon! You are one hot Mama! and you look great in your svelte body! There now do people think I'm gay?
Posted by: Amy | December 16, 2008 at 07:10 PM
Happy b-day to the longsuffering spouse! For us gals, 40+ = NO MORE APOLOGIES. Which = better life.
As to you, mi hermano. Naw, that doesn't make you gay. Just activo. The rest is a state of mind.
Posted by: Polly | December 16, 2008 at 07:49 PM