Bahston

At 5:15 on Saturday morning, we loaded up the car and took off for Boston. Yes, all in all, a lovely way to spend one's birthday . . . eating road-trip food, fighting, and trying to keep the baby entertained, all while avoiding motion sickness. I know I'm more contentious than the average mature 25-year-old but it is just so hard for me to sit in a car for 9 hours without fighting with the person next to me.

Actually, the drive was great and Theo was an angel. I think he was especially subdued for the first few hours because it was still dark and we got him up out of a sound sleep. Word to the wise . . . if you leave on a road trip at 5 a.m., risk the crib-to-car transfer being ruined by changing the baby's diaper before putting him in a car seat for 5 more hours without a break. Bad mother alert . . . plus you'll need to wash the car-seat cover. Luckily he really didn't seem to mind and no diaper rash, phew.

Whenever the trip did get a little hairy, as it did from time to time--I told you, I don't like sitting in cars--I liked to use my new favorite expression, "Well, happy birthday to me." Matt didn't think it was quite so funny, but I rather liked it. I plan on using it frequently whenever I am feeling slighted.

We arrived at our hotel just in time to take a leisurely nap, then eat dinner and pick up my dad at the airport. It was so much fun to see him even just for a few days. I ate much more than my share of pizza and pasta this weekend: must carb-load for the exerting task of sidelines-cheerer. Dad did fabulously on Monday, of course, with his best Boston time yet, and even seemed perky after crossing the finish line. The weather was perfect and we caught up with him easily both at the 16-mile mark and after the race. Then, after a few hours of down time, we left him to fend for himself in the hotel, equipped only with a half-eaten pizza and the remote control, and drove ourselves home.

If you have never been to the Boston Marathon, you should go. 25,000 runners is an exhilarating sight. Really any marathon is exhilarating, particularly if you are not running it. I have witnessed my share and there's little more inspiring than cheering on someone who is about to finish running 26.2 miles. The first time I cheered at a marathon finish line, I decided that someday I would have to run one. I have been halfway, so, maybe by the time I'm 30, or 40, or at any rate not donating half of my body to a fetus or baby. Anyway, go here for a short photo recap of the weekend, plus video footage of Theo saying "mommy," how can you resist?

I'm funny about birthdays--usually I dread them, not because I fear getting older, but because it seems like they're supposed to be so great, and I feel like if they're not, then somehow I have failed. I guess maybe this year I was too busy to think about it, because I was completely surprised when I found out a little trip to the park on Friday morning was actually a surprise party organized by my sneaky friends, who also gave me a copy of Pride and Prejudice. (Ask on your blog and ye shall receive.) That made my day and set the tone for the weekend ahead. Thank you!

Then, my dearest Matt upped the ante by giving me the sweet camera I had been hinting at "needing" only weeks before.

Then, as my mom put it, I got to spend the weekend with my favorite guys, and never once had to cook dinner. Happy birthday to me--really!