What I thought would happen:
RBH and I have been talking about my birthday for weeks. (He would say that I am the one thats been doing the talking but who are you going to believe?) Seriously, though, we have had it planned since January.
1. My birthday was on a Friday this year. WHAT! The best birthdays are on Fridays. Last year I had to work/school from 5am-5pm and then had school the next day. This year?!? FRIDAY!
2. We are obsessed with The Muppets. Obsessed. The new Muppet movie? Came out ON MY BIRTHDAY!
3. I have been asking RBH if we could buy cheesecake pretty much every week since we got engaged. We never have. Ever. We always say "we'll get one for your birthday." Seriously. For months. Well. I l.o.v.e. The Cheesecake Factory. So boom. Muppets and Cheesecake Factory were all we could talk about for months.
4. Because this is my first married birthday we were going to do all of it just us--with no phones, plans, responsibilities. Then the next day have some friends over. Greatness.
RBH and I have been talking about my birthday for weeks. (He would say that I am the one thats been doing the talking but who are you going to believe?) Seriously, though, we have had it planned since January.
1. My birthday was on a Friday this year. WHAT! The best birthdays are on Fridays. Last year I had to work/school from 5am-5pm and then had school the next day. This year?!? FRIDAY!
2. We are obsessed with The Muppets. Obsessed. The new Muppet movie? Came out ON MY BIRTHDAY!
3. I have been asking RBH if we could buy cheesecake pretty much every week since we got engaged. We never have. Ever. We always say "we'll get one for your birthday." Seriously. For months. Well. I l.o.v.e. The Cheesecake Factory. So boom. Muppets and Cheesecake Factory were all we could talk about for months.
4. Because this is my first married birthday we were going to do all of it just us--with no phones, plans, responsibilities. Then the next day have some friends over. Greatness.
What really happened:
The Saturday before my birthday we got a call that my grandpa had passed away. Now you have to understand, the next week was spent thinking about him and my family. I wasn't that self-obsessed that I was bitter about my plans because of THAT. It was a BEAUTIFUL week spent with my family in my home and in my grandpa's home. It was an amazing week. The funeral was the day before my birthday, and his burial was to be the day after my birthday. So I felt okay with taking that day in between to acknowledge it and go through with our birthday plans--just with Samika and my parents with us. Because of the circumstances of the week, it didn't FEEL like it was my birthday, but I was fine with that.
So. That being clarified here is how it went...
The Saturday before my birthday we got a call that my grandpa had passed away. Now you have to understand, the next week was spent thinking about him and my family. I wasn't that self-obsessed that I was bitter about my plans because of THAT. It was a BEAUTIFUL week spent with my family in my home and in my grandpa's home. It was an amazing week. The funeral was the day before my birthday, and his burial was to be the day after my birthday. So I felt okay with taking that day in between to acknowledge it and go through with our birthday plans--just with Samika and my parents with us. Because of the circumstances of the week, it didn't FEEL like it was my birthday, but I was fine with that.
So. That being clarified here is how it went...
Friday morning, I woke up with my right eye. My left eye was crusted over with sickness and disappointment. I furiously rubbed it and rolled over to look at the beautiful man next to me.
"Happy Birthday, Coco."
My voice croaked out a "thanks, babe," but barely any noise came out.
Great. My voice is completely shot. I feel like somebody steamrolled my head last night before stuffing cotton balls in my ears.
Being completely determined to make this a normal day, I continued to talk for the rest of the day ignoring the consistent throbbing in my throat that coincided with each word.
We all climbed into the car to see a morning showing of Muppets Most Wanted.
Oh, it was so good. My squeaky excuse for a laugh was heard throughout the theater.
The whole fam climbed back into the car and headed over to Cheesecake Factory. I ordered the meal I had been thinking about for 2 months. It was great.
We headed home, my angel husband decided to pack up all my stuff while I took a quick nap, and headed to the airport.
The six of us filed into the check in line of Southwest, and ONE HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES LATER we filed out of the line. I spent the 90 minutes thinking about whether my face was visibly throbbing or if it was just a feeling...and dreaming about telling off the person in charge of the Southwest counter. (I am sorry but 3 employees each working ONE computer on a Friday night during Spring break season in Chicago??? Are you new here or something?)
Mom and Dad got through check in first and took off...our plane was taking off in 15 minutes.
SIL Jenn and I then took off as our husbands finished getting our bags weighed.
15 minutes. With security ahead of us and a run down the terminal. This would be my proudest Chicago girl moment.
Jenn and I got on the escalator to security and I taught those in front of us the concept of "hi. You are now in a city airport and we live by the rule of 'stand on the right, walk on the left'". Aka please MOVE.
We jumped around the escalator riders and then pool-side-run-walked around the people approaching the security lines. The lines were full, but I saw a line to the far right that had 1 man standing in it. BEELINE. We were through ticket and ID check in literally 120 seconds.
I praised the 567 times I had been through this specific airport security and knowing that there were 2 hidden security lines around the corner. I turn the corner, and there is ONE woman going through the line I have my eye on. One. I look back at Jenn and see that she is in the other one person security line. Another 120 seconds later, and we are through security. As I put my shoes back on, I notice the classic Chicago looking security woman laughing at my intensity. I meet up with Jenn, and we begin searching for our other family members.
We see mom, dad, brother, and husband all were specifically escorted to a different security line. The long one. With mixed looks of panic and humor, they wave us on.
(They told us later that 3 of the 4 were asked to step aside in line as they were randomly selected for an individual security hand scan. Really?? Really. You're killin me here!)
The pregnant girl and the sick girl start frantically making their way through B terminal--remember those 567 flights I've made between UT and IL? Those flights are always in the same 3 gates. We start booking it and I look down at my ticket to find which of those 3 gates we are headed to (thankfully all of them are pretty close).
Terminal A? What?! I don't even think I've been through Terminal A in my life. Jenn and I U-turn and start booking it to Terminal A. My ticket reads Gate A4B...what the what does that even mean?! I feel like I'm all of a sudden in a nightmare and I'm going to get there and there will be a Gate A4 and a Gate A5 and Ill just keep walking back and forth wanting to cry before I look down and see that I forgot to put pants on this morning.
The pregnant and the sick girl keep run-walking till we see a sign that says Gates 4 and an arrow to some random tunnel hallway. WHY THIS GATE OF ALL DAYS. We make it down the 2 city blocks of tunnel and see that the plane has already boarded...but is still here.
I later told my mom, "it was really good that Jenn and I were the 2 that got ahead because she is pregnant and I've got a mouth."
I put my mouth on and started talking to the man at the ticket desk, the flight attendants, and anybody that would listen to me. "Hi. We are on our way to my Grandpa's burial and my mom, dad, brother, and husband are running here from security and I am going to put my tray table down, my seat back, turn on all my electronic devices, and stand in the aisle bugging you until they get here so that we can't take off. Thanks for understanding."
(Remember all of this is happening through the mouth of a girl that barely has a voice. Very effective. Now noting that this actually was a tender mercy. Thank you Heavenly Father :) sorry I complained).
I stood in the aisle doing my thing while taking snotty deep cardio breaths and trying to air out my sweaty running-through-a-Narnia-aiport-tunnel spine.
FINALLY I see the 4 heads that I love pile onto the plane.
RBH starts moving toward the back of the plane where I am standing, and I notice that there are only 2 seats back here.
I put my mouth back on.
It says something along the lines of, "Hello sir. Would you mind switching seats? As you can hear, I am very sick. My husband is about to sit in that seat next to you. I think it would be nice for every one here if I sat on an aisle seat next to him so that he will be the only person receiving my germs (and I can zonk out on his shoulder and find some sweet relief on my birthday haha). So how about you sit here and you, sir, you can sit here and I sit here."
Everybody in the surrounding rows all agreed with my idea. Many of them thanking RBH for being willing to sit next to me.
Sigh.
No missed plane. And I get to suffer through the flight next to my husband and not a germaphobic stranger.
I'll try to sparknote the rest of the night with the highlights:
Oh hey there are our bags...but where's mom and dad's bag??? Oh they want us to come back for it tomorrow morning at the same time as the burial? Cool. Lets go buy a toothbrush.
We drive up to Brigham City (where my grandparents grew up and RBH and I were married), and pull into the hotel we stayed at during wedding week. My heart was beaming. All the memories of that awesome week came flooding back. Maybe I had been a little harsh on the health factor of how my day went. This is an awesome way to end a birthday. Husband and me. Back at the hotel all our families were at before our wedding. Together. We hadn't had any time alone in a week and a half and here we were in the very town we started our new life together.
I started getting sentimental remembering and vowed that I would be in a better mood.
I got some hot chocolate for my throat and to calm me down so I could sleep.
Then I spent the rest of the night being sick in the bathroom from food poisoning that I had gotten from The Cheesecake Factory earlier that day. (In between coughing and blowing my nose, mind you).
My birthday cheesecake. gave. me. food. poisoning.
After a sleepless night of torture, my parents came to check on me and give me some medicine before they headed to my grandpa's burial. I had to miss it. It was, simply, the worst feeling ever.
Sometime later RBH hauled me in the car to take me home and be miserable there.
So. That is the reason basically nobody got a thank you response to their birthday greeting hahahah. And we can all laugh about it now.
Am I the only one laughing?
I got my lesson--don't be so self-obsessed about my birthday next time.
*Don't worry. Next post is about the beautiful moments of the wonderful week we had remembering my grandpa before that day. It really was amazing. Stay tuned.
RBH starts moving toward the back of the plane where I am standing, and I notice that there are only 2 seats back here.
I put my mouth back on.
It says something along the lines of, "Hello sir. Would you mind switching seats? As you can hear, I am very sick. My husband is about to sit in that seat next to you. I think it would be nice for every one here if I sat on an aisle seat next to him so that he will be the only person receiving my germs (and I can zonk out on his shoulder and find some sweet relief on my birthday haha). So how about you sit here and you, sir, you can sit here and I sit here."
Everybody in the surrounding rows all agreed with my idea. Many of them thanking RBH for being willing to sit next to me.
Sigh.
No missed plane. And I get to suffer through the flight next to my husband and not a germaphobic stranger.
I'll try to sparknote the rest of the night with the highlights:
Oh hey there are our bags...but where's mom and dad's bag??? Oh they want us to come back for it tomorrow morning at the same time as the burial? Cool. Lets go buy a toothbrush.
We drive up to Brigham City (where my grandparents grew up and RBH and I were married), and pull into the hotel we stayed at during wedding week. My heart was beaming. All the memories of that awesome week came flooding back. Maybe I had been a little harsh on the health factor of how my day went. This is an awesome way to end a birthday. Husband and me. Back at the hotel all our families were at before our wedding. Together. We hadn't had any time alone in a week and a half and here we were in the very town we started our new life together.
I started getting sentimental remembering and vowed that I would be in a better mood.
I got some hot chocolate for my throat and to calm me down so I could sleep.
Then I spent the rest of the night being sick in the bathroom from food poisoning that I had gotten from The Cheesecake Factory earlier that day. (In between coughing and blowing my nose, mind you).
My birthday cheesecake. gave. me. food. poisoning.
After a sleepless night of torture, my parents came to check on me and give me some medicine before they headed to my grandpa's burial. I had to miss it. It was, simply, the worst feeling ever.
Sometime later RBH hauled me in the car to take me home and be miserable there.
So. That is the reason basically nobody got a thank you response to their birthday greeting hahahah. And we can all laugh about it now.
Am I the only one laughing?
I got my lesson--don't be so self-obsessed about my birthday next time.
*Don't worry. Next post is about the beautiful moments of the wonderful week we had remembering my grandpa before that day. It really was amazing. Stay tuned.
