My husband is absolutely lovely.
For my 36th birthday in two days, he went way out of his natural comfort zone to make a plan.
A romantic, birthday plan.
Typically he defers to me in matters of planning, but knowing this is going to be a special weekend, he decided to take charge. Very attractive!
First, he arranged babysitting.
That's just a huge gift right there. He singlehandedly orchestrated two grandparents and a babysitter to ensure that he and I would have at least 24 hours to ourselves.
Next, he offered to whisk me back to Los Angeles - the scene of our last romantic getaway.
He even planned a sunset stroll at the Getty Center - the site where he'd originally planned to propose years ago (before, overcome with exuberance, we ended up getting engaged while sitting on a bag of Costco toilet paper).
So basically, for his effort and genuine gift of time and love, my husband gets an A+++. I really appreciate it. He's not a romantic by nature, so the extra effort means a lot.
* * *
Here's the catch:
Christmas is coming.
In fact, Christmas is just two weeks away.
I'm a mom, with three small children who are all SO excited about Santa Claus.
In fact, they've written Santa some really darling letters politely requesting some very expensive toys. On top of which, they're expecting presents from us.
Sigh.
This is pretty much the main reason why I highly dislike Christmas. There is so much financial pressure on us as parents, it takes all the joy out of the season for me.
So even though I should have been thrilled that my darling husband had planned to take me away on a special getaway, instead I've been stressed out.
"How much is it going to cost? What are we going to do in Los Angeles? How can we justify that kind of expense?" Those have pretty much been the questions on my mind.
"If we're just going to do dinner and a movie," I reasoned, "It doesn't make any sense to spend that much time driving and burn through that much gas. The cost of gasoline alone might buy one of my children a special present - a camera, a scooter, a play kitchen, a beginner guitar.
For nights I have tossed and turned, worrying about our trip to L.A.
Finally my husband asked what was wrong.
* * *
I didn't really want to tell him. I didn't want him to think I haven't hugely appreciated his planning, and his big gesture. It's a really sweet thing that he wanted to give me a trip for my birthday.
"I'm a little worried," I said. "About money. I would LOVE to go away with you. But Christmas is coming fast... and I have so many things I need to buy for people we love in the next two weeks. I'm just not sure if this is the right time for Los Angeles."
We went back and forth for a few days. There was one really good reason to travel to LA, beyond my birthday. A family we absolutely love lives up there, and we haven't seen them for many months. Spending time with them would be a great reason to travel anywhere.
Then the wife, who is my dear friend, kindly confided that they will actually be traveling to our town for a week at Christmastime!
This made everything clear, at least to me. I can't wait to see them and am so grateful that they're coming our way.
With that wrapped up, my answer was right in front of me:
I wanted to stay home for my birthday. No fancy trips. No long drives. I want to stay in the city I love with the man I love, and enjoy the genuine beauty of our real life.
I drove around for a while yesterday looking for places where I most wanted to spend my birthday with my husband. My daughter and I drove along the ocean for about an hour, checking out cute little spots. Nothing clicked at first, nothing called my name.
When my daughter melted down in the car (before falling fast asleep) I turned around and we slowly drove back along the coast toward home.
The closer we got toward home, the more comfortable I felt. The more I appreciated the landscape, and the more I felt happy and serene.
Then I realized something very wonderful.
"What I really want for my birthday, is the exact life I am already living. I am so happy here! I love my home."
This is a new thing for me.
A year ago at this time, I felt desperate to get away from our community. I was willing to leave the city and even the country just to get out of the rut we'd fallen into as a family. A year ago, I couldn't get far enough away from my real life. Many days, I fought the urge to drive away... and just keep driving.
I wasn't happy in myself, nor was I happy in our life. Sickness played into that, but a lot of other things played into it too.
How thrilling then, to realize just twelve months later that the life I chose for our family in this new community is still exactly the life I most want... even for a special occasion.
Every day as I drive my children home from school or soccer or the grocery store, I am the most joyful when I enter our neighborhood and wend my way down its serene, cheery streets - full of holiday lights and decorations.
I've chosen a good home, and it's revitalized everything beautifully!
Our children are thriving, our marriage has never been stronger, and my attitude about the health challenges I face has improved a thousand-fold. I am growing a great community-based support system and even developing my faith! My career is back in action, and there is joy in my heart more often than not.
What I want most for my birthday is to spend it celebrating the massive gift I received from life one year ago. I am so blessed by this second chance at lasting happiness, and so grateful for the life we've built.
* * *
In conclusion, we're staying here!
My husband and I are going to luxuriate in our community for my 36th birthday. We got an amazing deal at a local hotel, close to a nearby mountain we love to hike. We're going to enjoy a locally grown, locally prepared meal. See a film at one of our favorite theaters... hold hands as we amble down the streets of our own neighborhood, spinning dreams for our bright future.
I love you, honey. You and the kids are the best birthday presents ever.
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