Shopping Addiction, Running, and Nature...

So it happened. I'm officially 30. My true birthday came and went. I actually feel older... but perhaps that is my body telling me to stop doing what I did to it last weekend. In a nod to my youth, I was very irresponsible. More than irresponsible... Idiotic is a better word. So Friday night we had dinner plans with the family of an old preschool friend of Summer's. It was an absolutely great time. We overstayed our welcome (proof below): 

It was just a nice, relaxed evening with a great family. The absolute only downside of the evening was that they had a cat that Olivia was utterly obsessed with, and Matt kept hinting. No. 100% absolutely, positively no. We don't need another Boy Titty disaster. So after a great evening we come home, put the girls directly to bed, and Matt and I settle down on the couch to chat and have a nightcap... until 4 o'clock in the morning. I told you it was idiotic. At one point we looked at the clock and were like, "Oh wow, it is 2am. We REALLY need to go to bed." Then it was like, "CRAP, it is FOUR IN THE MORNING. WHAT ARE WE THINKING?!?" It was just so so VERY nice to sit and chat and relax with my hubby. Too often it really seems like those times are few and far between. I won't say it wasn't worth it (any quality time with the hubs is major priority)... but it did set us up to be insanely exhausted for the entire weekend, which was totally booked (per usual). We did get Summer to ballet in the morning (don't ask me if we have ever forgotten about that... twice), and then attempted to rally to go to party #1- a two year old birthday party. The dad is our friend from high school, and they just moved to a gorgeous new home. They also had super delicious food, a shockingly good cake (Wegmans... yellow with a chocolate pudding layer if I remember correctly), and lots of our good friends. The girls had a great time as well... despite a rather unfortunate diaper blowout by none-other than dear Olivia. A moonbounce just exacerbated the problem, and I had to borrow pants. 

Party #2 was an annual Saint Patrick's Day party hosted by great friends of ours. They actually changed the date of their party to accommodate mine, which was so incredibly nice of them. They are always fantastic hosts and have tons of great food (Rice Krispie Treats at all of their parties... you have no idea how amazing it is to be able to rely on that when attending). Party #2 was cut semi-short for us. I forgot to show Layla where the bathroom was and she had a minor accident. We got home by 8:30 and I nearly collapsed in bed. Sunday was the random blizzard, along with a "Mad Scientist" kids show we had signed up for at our country club (Sidenote: that sounds so snobby, I know. Our country club. I usually try to avoid that phrase, but I had no other option when trying to explain why we went to a science show). The girls enjoyed it, I got out of cooking dinner for the evening because there was a buffet provided, and shocker... we got home and collapsed in bed.  

In other news, I have gone temporarily insane. I decided to sign up for a 10K, something I initially laughed out loud at when a friend was trying to convince me. For you runners out there, that distance may be one of your quick jogs on the weekend. For me, my friends, it is a near impossible task. I am not a runner, have never been a runner, never will be a runner. I blame this, in part, on the fact that I cannot breathe. I broke my nose in my tween years, which not only created the most unfortunate bump, but (in my opinion) caused a deviated septum (which is why insurance should pay for my nose job that I have dreamt of for years and years. I told Matt that it can just be part of my mommy package in a few years... I don't want major adjustments or enhancements. I just want things back where they started.). Anyways, being a college athlete, working out was my life. The difference with diving is that although you need to be in shape head-to-toe, it really is so much more about core strength, toning, body control. Another problem with being a lifelong athlete is that I can really only work out when someone is yelling at me, telling me what to do/to keep going. I also have absurd expectations of what a workout is, so even if I do get to the gym and I am not completely drenched in sweat wanting to vomit, it doesn't seem like a real workout. Being sore is one of my favorite feelings ever. I feel accomplished. Instead of having realistic expectations of a regular workout schedule, I just usually don't do anything. Or I have aspirations to go several times a week and I make it to one spin class per quarter. So you get the point. I barely work out. I most definitely don't run. I have always been impressed/jealous of those who do. I may or may not complain of my lack of drive to workout... so (probably to get me to zip it) Matt baited me with something I couldn't refuse: $$$ for new clothes. I have written before of my love for clothes, particularly nice ones. I have been cursed with expensive taste. I'm not talking the need for particular labels. I'm talking give me an entire page of boots on Zappos without knowing any prices, and my favorite ones will without a doubt be one of the most expensive pairs on the page. You could say I have an online shopping addiction. I know it. Matt knows it. The UPS guy knows it. Do I buy $108 shirts? No. I buy the $108 shirt when it is on sale for $24. There is such a feeling of satisfaction when I find good deals online, or find that random coupon code to get that extra money off. And also the excitement when something is delivered. 

As I have said before, given the fact that I have been a schmillion different sizes over the past six years and am finally at my relative normal, I want new clothes. I did a first run of cleaning out my closet. I don't wear 80% of it, probably more. Project organized closet/only-own-things-that-I-actually-love-and-wear-and-that-fits has commenced... which is a major reason I fell for the 10K race money incentive. No questions asked, I can spend it on whatever I want without feeling guilty?!?! I will crawl 6.2 miles for that. 

This leads into one part of my actual birthday that was unexpected. Part of our awesome shooting guns/fab lunch/massages day that I enjoyed with Matt was a little shopping spree. We dropped the girls off at my sister's and he drives me to the mall. We go to Nordstrom and Matt says, "Okay. What do you want?" You may think that this would be a dream come true... but instead I felt anxious, uncomfortable, and nearly embarrassed. This is Matt, my hubby of going on eight years. I never ever feel this way around him. What is my problem? Why can't I think of what I want? Why can't I make decisions? I know he knows that I like stupid expensive jeans, but I can't justify why I need them right now. If I am going to make a bigger purchase, I usually do my research and essentially agonize over exactly what I want and find the best price for it. That is usually why I can explain away my spending in my head (Matt rarely actually gets mad at me for this... he gets more annoyed by the hidden bags/boxes). Given free-reign, I am way too overwhelmed and feel strange. Fear not, I was able to sort of conquer this... with a pair of Tory Burch sandals (I never thought I would ever actually get. I just couldn't justify them), jeans, a few tops, and a couple other things that I had on my list (Yes, I have a list. My mother makes me). I really should have had a lot more fun, but instead I just felt bad. I really had thought that my party was my gift. I'm not just saying this because we went shopping for fab stuff, but the party really would have been enough. 

So other than my bizarre shopping anxiety, my actual birthday was delightful. These little nuggets were thrilled to serve me breakfast in bed: 

 We picked the girls after our adventures and Matt cooked me a delicious meal of steak (with a phenomenal rub he makes), twice-baked potatoes and sauteed squash and zucchini with parmesan cheese. Matt is amazeballs in the kitchen, I am a lucky lady. Layla gave me her gift that she was quick to explain she had found all by herself at the Dollar Store with Nana... totally adorable socks.

We had cheesecake for dessert and put the girls to bed... which then I followed promptly. At 8:03. On my 30th birthday. Before you judge, I had two beverages at lunch followed by an hour-long massage... and stress from shopping must have just taken so much out of me. :o) I was a zombie and I couldn't recover. And it was fantastic. 

Life continued yesterday as it does. Somehow I completely missed the memo that Layla had a field trip to a nature center. As I said on Facebook, the closest I prefer to get to nature is drinking wine on my deck... but for my little nuggets, I will withstand anything (Well, almost anything. No cat. And no camping. #resortkindofgirl). 

An hour of walking around in mud and getting near things I don't like, we were done and I wouldn't have missed it. 

So I think I will order some rain boots and new running gear... I mean, I need them if I am going to become a nature-loving marathon runner in my 30's. 

Happy Thursday!!!

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