And that would be me!
This sad tale begins several years ago, when The Patriarch and I were having a conversation about our 50th birthdays approaching – an unbelievable thought! I said that he should fulfill a long-held dream and go to a big reggae festival in northern California for his 50th. In fact, why didn’t each of us choose a big-dream 50th gift? We agreed that this would be our plan.
Sadly, as The Patriarch’s 50th drew close, it became obvious that he wouldn’t be able to go so far away for a week. Each time he’d left the state to visit relatives for a week, one of our little sick ones would end up hospitalized. We had one very scary episode where first one was hospitalized, then the next, and the third very sick and on the edge. It was so difficult – I couldn’t really leave the hospital, and yet there were very sick children at home. So we made an alternate plan. There was another reggae festival that was three days long, and a six hour drive away. There were artists he liked that were booked, and if we had another illness crisis here, he’d be able to come back in plenty of time to avoid another nightmare.
This spring, around March, the younger children and I were doing homeschool and The Patriarch came downstairs. He asked Clara if she had a birthday list up yet. She said that she didn’t, but that she’d make one soon (for her early April birthday). I teasingly reminded him that he shouldn’t talk – I didn’t see a list up for his April birthday, either – and he replied, “Well, you know what I want – to go to the reggae festival again”. This led to more teasing about him turning 50 again every year now to get his “big” birthday gift. But it worried me a little, because he seemed to have forgotten the earlier agreement. And, well, I was excited about my turn coming up. I had a BIG request, a dream that I’d had for over a decade.
So I asked, “You do remember about our agreement that we’d each get a ‘big-dream’ gift for our 50th, right?” and he looked like he’d forgotten entirely. He said, “Uhmmm, I guess I’m going to have to spoil my surprise here. I booked our beach vacation for your birthday!”
This is the spoiled brat part (blushing furiously): My reaction was “No way!!! You WHAT??!!”. We go to the beach for a family vacation every year. And it is a great time – very fun; love it – but for my big promised 50th birthday gift? Our family vacation?!!?!?
Now, I was trying to express all of this quietly and respectfully and all, but wasn’t that a bratty reaction? Wait, it gets worse. So The Patriarch asked, “Well, what is it that you want?” I once again asked for the dream-gift I’d asked for before, always getting a snort in response, but this time he slowly asked details about how we’d do it, cost, etc. The children were sitting wide-eyed, silent, and shushing each other, because they would be over the moon if I got my gift. At the end of the conversation, he was fairly encouraging. A couple of days later he said that if a list of projects could get done, my request would be a “go”. These are the projects that have been blogged: the twin beds and the loft project, plus painting our bedroom (and we hope to finish this up this week).
So as we work on my Dream Gift (and this should be complete enough to blog in a couple of weeks), let me give a wee tiny pic-hint of where we’re going:
Back to the embarrassing part of my Spoiled Brat story. So after The Patriarch agreed that I’d get my Dream Gift, he kept asking if I didn’t want to move our beach trip to some other day. No, of course – I was fine with the trip being over my birthday since my dream was coming true!
We went to our usual rental at the beach, despite Tarquin being pretty sick. He’d been coughing and throwing up for a couple of days, so we went back and forth. But I wondered if he might not do better in different pollen, since all of our allergic family members were miserable, and we went. We were settling in, unloading the van, when The Patriarch said he’d forgotten something and had to run out really quick on an errand. He came back when I was giving the little guy a nebulizer, and he was putting away groceries when the doorbell rang. Gareth had just been running around outside, so as The Patriarch went to get the door I told him, “I think it’s Gareth”. The door opened – and to my utter, utter shock, it was my parents, my two sisters, and my niece! One of my sisters lives 14 hours away from me in California! They called out, “Happy Birthday” while I sat with my mouth wide open in utter confusion!
As it turns out, The Patriarch had planned this way back in February or March. He rented another house next to our rental for the rest of them, and we all had a vacation together. He had had me create a birthday menu, and I ate about six zillion calories, worth every one. Just had the last slice of zucchini-mushroom-caramelized-onion frittata for lunch today.
One of my sisters (who had known about this the whole time, of course), said, “Way to work the situation – you got this big event PLUS your dream gift!” Yikes!!!
So that, my friends, is how one very spoiled woman became more spoiled. Our little girls had a delightful time having their cousin along – she is right between them in age, and my little girls just adore her. We had her sleep up at our rental so that the three of them could whisper and giggle until hideous hours of the night and have long discussions on topics from beads to debating the best Nancy Drew mystery.
Of course we need pictures! Here they are:
My not-youngest sister ;-) had never to her memory flown a kite before, and found the experience much fun and quite relaxing once she got the hang of it. Love this picture with the delight on her face!
She wanted photographic proof of flying the kite for her husband, so to my dear brother-in-law who tried to get the time off work to join us, and so generously allowed his wife to come up, here she is aloft! (And thank you so much – that goes for you, too, other brother-in-law. My profound thanks to you both <3 )
While poor little Tarquin felt miserable, he was no worse than at home, and got a little better each day. Today he is running around with just a lingering cough, but is keeping his formula down and has plenty of energy.
As you know, a celebration means a special dessert. Clara and Sophia collaborated on this one - “Tuxedo Truffle Torte”, another of Marcel Desaulniers’ recipes, this from Desserts To Die For. It was chosen both for its inherent gluten-free nature, and because it was one of the few desserts that could be done ahead. It ended up looking a little ragged since, despite our best efforts at padding it for the road, it did slide and lose the lovely piped finish and finished sides. No matter: the taste was fabulous and wildly chocolatey. Just the thing for a female turning fifty!
Didn’t get a good pic of what was inside here, but this lovely gift was from my parents. Many, many years ago I’d bought my mother a leather purse in Florence, Italy, in a little leather shop along the River Arno. She is downsizing and gave this purse to me – all these years later, and it’s still a wonderful purse. What a treasure!
So that is the tale of “One Very Spoiled Woman”. There will be a sequel, obviously, as I get the Dream Gift in a couple of weeks, but this was such a wonderful thing that The Patriarch had planned for me, and my family blessed me with.