This was yesterday, when the sun way out. We had to postpone her outdoor party a day because of terrible weather today (2-3 inches of rain and wind!).
I’d say that all she did a year ago was poop and cry, but that’s not true. She tried (with some success) to hold her head up while we were still at the hospital, and would stick her tongue back out at me when she was a few hours old.
She’s always been a pretty amazing kid.
I don’t think I’ve ever been at work on my birthday before, except in 2001. My wife (then girlfriend) had flowers sent to the office. And I caught the young ladies of the suite reading the card when I got back from a smoke-break. Evidently, there was speculation of some sort about whether I was single, gay, how old I was, etc. No one believed I was “only” 22, and I was insulted for some reason. The whole “you’ve been with the same girl for how long?” thing was also insulting, as if three years meant something that everyone understood but me. Playing the field? No thanks. I wonder what some of them would say if I told them that we’re married now, with a beautiful daughter.
Today, I am 31, have a wonderful wife and daughter and really don’t care about my age anymore (remind me I said that if I’m still blogging when I turn 40 in 2019).
One: The ways in which I have been spoiled today, culminating in a lovely sunset and cool evening (the end of summer?). From chocolate chip pancakes to delicious mattar paneer, this was a very yummy day. And there was also a fun dinner at Joe Squared last night, complete with French lager, Czech lager, Irish stout and chocolate cake.
Two: What I said I wanted since spring (when we decided to have a baby). I wanted Mrs. FP to be pregnant, and I wanted to know. With my party three weeks ago and the best news I ever received two weeks ago, I thought my birthday would be anti-climatic. But it wasn’t.
Thanks to everyone who made this three weeks of awesomeness. I am a very fortunate 30-year-old. Ahem, 29-year-old (again, ahem).
Went to a “Japanese Steakhouse” for my brother’s and sister-in-law’s birthdays last night. Had delicious beer and very good food. Ate mushrooms like mad. The cook nicknamed me Johnny Be Good and joked that I was able to knock-up Mrs. P with us both being vegetarians. Had chocolate/peanut butter/ice-cream cake. It felt like my birthday; my tummy was so happy.
Seriously. The other night when we had bad storms right around dinner time, my wrist was aching. It had been sorta sticky and stiff all afternoon. By midnight while I was lying in bed reading (hours after the rain cleared), my wrist was fine. I am entirely too young to have two trick toes, a trick wrist and a right hand that still doesn’t make a fist. I’m not even 30 until the 30th. This is funny, though. And I’m taking 30-40 people on a walking tour tomorrow in the afternoon, when they are calling for storms. So I guess I’ll know if any are coming. Wrist, don’t fail me now!
My family and friends threw a fantastic party last weekend for my Dad and I. Papa turned 60 on August 2nd, and I turn 30 on August 30th. It was awesome. Great food, two cakes, two kegs of beer, very excellent company, hand-painted signs (mine had a bike; Dad’s had a Mustang) — it’s own name: JOHNAPOLOOZA (since we have the same name). A lot of people put a lot of work into a very nice evening. And I only got thrown in the pool once. My youngest brother, well, he went in three times. The last time, my sister-in-law and I just flipped him over the side.
My father and I look much more alike when I’m not bearded. He looked exactly like me in his 20s. I keep trying to convince him to grow a beard, but no luck. I think 30 years in the military have him liking to be clean-shaven. But now you see where I get my extreme hairiness from.
(Photo Friday: Young and Old, coincidentally.)
But it’s still only 9:30pm, so it’s not over yet. So I’m going to enjoy it for a while longer, before I spoil it all by writing about it.
Even my journal’s lounged since Friday morning.
I’m going to have some tea and watch 300 with my wife.
In celebration of Paps’s birthday today, NBBB is having a casual ride to Fell’s Point. Here is the poem I will toast with:
I’m off’n wild wimmens
An cognac
An sinnin’
For I’m in loOOOOOOOve!
~ E.H. Paris, ca. 1922.