I posted the following on Facebook:
"This guy hit it out of the ballpark for my birthday. Not only did he take a day off from work to stay home with the kids so I could go out, he planned my day! Lunch, two thrift stores, a movie, Target, Christmas shops, and ice cream! I came home that evening to a cake he'd made from scratch, inspired by the Needhams we'd had in Maine. It was honestly the best chocolate cake I've ever had. Oh, there's more! He recorded the kids and himself talking about me, and they all made cards.. and he's having my car detailed! The day was awesome, but being reminded that Nate knows me so well and loves me this much was honestly the best part. It was my birthday, sure, but this day, for me, was all about him. LOVE."
Being a 35-year-old woman in her early 40's married for 7 years, I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary for this particular birthday. I have been a bit stressed lately, and we are talking about having another baby...I guess it follows that Nate would want to give me respite. And he apparently loves me BIG TIME.
Update on life...
I was called as the Young Women's president in our ward a little over a year ago. We had moved into the ward only 3 months before, so for that and other reasons, it was unexpected. When the Bishop asked what my thoughts were after having extended the call, I told him I was excited to be challenged and to learn. He told me that he felt strongly impressed that I was to be the president. So it was a challenge at first (still is) as I had to learn everything about the program, the ward, and the girls (30 total) all in one fell swoop. We've recently released our Personal Progress specialist, so that part of the program now falls on me, too. All in all, it's been what I expected it to be... challenging, rewarding, and never routine.
Nate was called as the Young Single Adult leader in our ward. Generally, they call a couple to do this calling, but they had no intention of releasing me as Young Women's President... so I've been asked to "unofficially" serve alongside Nate. "It's like being the Bishop's wife. You have unofficial responsibilities beyond your normal calling," the Bishop told me. At first I was beyond excited; it felt right. And then it sunk in. In addition to attending ward council, Laurel class, mutual, temple trips, firesides, BYC, presidency and class presidency meetings, I was now going to be hosting activities in my home for the YSAs. Wowza. Did I mention we are in charge of the ward Halloween party, and Young Women In Excellence in coming up? And I have 3 kids? And I'm trying to get pregnant? And Nate works 11 hour days? And he's on a 3-day business trip right now? I'm just saying that it's a lot...
So, I've been stressed. Instead of focusing on my kids and enjoying time to myself here and there, I'm CONSTANTLY thinking of my calling. When I put my calling aside and take time for my family, I feel guilty. And when I do my calling, I feel guilty for ignoring my family. It's kinda a no-win situation. But I LOVE my calling. It's a crazy interplay of feeling validated and feeling flawed... and growing.
My mom posted 3 pictures on my birthday of me with my cakes at different ages. The first cake was a vibrant yellow, piped-icing homemade Big Bird cake for my 2nd birthday. I'm smiling sweetly in my high chair adorned with a red balloon. The second cake was a chocolate ice cream cake from the corner gas station decorated with pink icing - "Happy Birthday, Emilie!" ("Those cakes were good!" my mom informs me.) I was wearing a gingham dress with a bow on the collar, and I'm clearly in the middle of a birthday party; my friends are on either side of me leaning onto the table awaiting a piece of the cake. I was 7. The third cake is a Pepperidge Farm cake from the grocery freezer section decorated with those hard icing decals found in the cake decorating isle. The decals came from a single pack meant to adequately decorate any cake, I guess. Six blue circles and a crooked-HAPPY BIRTHDAY for this 8 year old. Done and done. I'm wearing a t-shirt with neon print and smiling at the camera before getting back to my water painting.
I'm sure my mom was busy. I'm sure she was stressed. In fact, I remember when she had a miscarriage, and it must have been sometime during or between my 7th and 8th birthdays. She may not have hand-piped the icing on my cakes those years, but she was still throwing a party and taking pictures despite LIFE. And that's something I have to remind myself of often... that our collective memories are full of holes and patterns. I don't remember those cakes, but I remember that there was always A cake.
This year, on my first of several 40th birthdays, I was stressed, I was loved, I was reminded, and I had cake.
I got this.
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