September 14
In which it's our birthday and we'll party how we want to.
True to our roots, we've had our heinies on planes more often than not this past month. Sadly the jets weren't fast enough to outrun time and yet another birthday viciously tagged me, leaving a little more fat and a few more lines to mark the event.
The process began with Robin wrapping up her visit with Abuelita Pamela just in time to host uncles Larry (a.k.a. Kirk) and Doug (a.k.a. "Crabs"). The boys piggy-backed a business trip with some fun and came to Boston to help me celebrate another step closer to middle age. (I refuse to accept that I am already there...)
Owen could not have cared less about his old man's impending decrepitude. He was just excited about a visit from the uncles and extra nights with babysitter extraordinaire, Donna, and her oh-so-entertaining son, Justin.
We did a triple play-- three nights of babysitting-- because Daddy needed to go out on the town in a pathetic attempt to recapture his youth. It would have been more impressive if he hadn't come home and been soundly asleep by 10:30 each night.
The boys' visit was followed by another taste of home. My childhood nextdoor neighbor and former babysitter, Julie, and her daughter, Kathryn visited us for a week. In an "it's a small world" turn of events, Kathryn, who hails from Alaska, decided to come to Boston to attend B.U. She and her mom stayed with us while getting settled in.
I ran them to the dorms a few times and saw all of the new freshmen lined up outside the building. I had time to wonder if I were ever that slim and healthy and beautiful. I realized the answer was, "no," but tried to put it out of my head.
Shortly thereafter, never one to be outdone, Uncle Larry invited Owen's 'rents to Beaver Creek, Colorado, to celebrate his 40th. Robin traveled via Kansas City and squeezed in a visit with Aunt Norma and friends before leaving Owen with his poor, beleaguered grandparents and heading to Denver.
I was supposed to meet Robin early in the morning so that we could enjoy an extra afternoon in Beaver Creek, but our plans were waylaid. The night before leaving Boston, I went out to get dogfood, stopped for a snack, and stayed out past my bedtime watching commentary on the Republican Convention. Meanwhile, our well-meaning neighbors noticed that I'd left the garage door open and that our dogs were wandering free.
They called the cops who locked up and, unwittingly, locked me out. Long story longer, I had to break a window in my own home to get in and did so only to discover that Betty-- our blind and deaf elder dog-- had gone missing. After searching all night and into the dawn, I had to cancel my flight to hunt for her and (THANKFULLY!) found her mid-day the next day.
As a result, Uncle Larry's special day will always be marked as Daddy's first heart attack.
After the ignominious beginning, we had a wonderful time celebrating Kirk's day. As always the boys were lavish and generous and a good time was had by all. (A good time was MOSTLY had-- if we skip over the forced march up a mountain health freak Larry insisted we take the day before his birthday. That would be heart attack number two.)
Coming home, the momentous occasions continued with Owen's first day of school. You'll see from the picture that he treated it with the solemnity such an important academic event deserves.
We wrapped up the week by celebrating Justin's birthday. Owen helpfully unwrapped Justin's gifts for him and blew out the candles on his cake.
It was rude, but it did bring good luck: Robin found out this week that she has a new job. She'll be working for a pharmaceutical research firm in Cambridge (which is so much cooler than Marlborough, where I work).
With luck, and a few more birthday wishes that come true, we may even be able to afford all of the trips we've been taking...
