Last weekend I had the total pleasure of sharing in the
surprise birthday celebration that I planned for Matt and 23 of his relatives
and friends.
Before I go any further talking about this particular
soiree, it will help to understand the title of this post if I back up to about
3 months ago when this party first started taking shape. As a manner of
comparison, for my 40th birthday all I asked was to be let in on the
day and time I had to be wherever I was being taken. Matt obliged me that
information but I knew nothing else.
He never asked for the same.
And I knew what I wanted to do for him as the words…
“I don’t know what to do for your birthday, you have to help me, tell me what you want.”
…came out of my mouth back in early 2016. Because this year
he’d be turning 40. This year was a huge milestone birthday. And I knew just
how he was feeling about hitting that magic number.
In one word, freaked.
I remember when I was getting closer to the big four-oh. In
the months leading up to my birthday I swear to you I was convinced I would
just up and croak before I ever got there. Now I know everyone says ‘forty is
the new twenty’ or whatever other platitude they like hearing themselves say
out loud, but to me it was hard to imagine myself getting older.
Yes, despite the graying eyelashes, sagging boobs,
slowing metabolism, I somehow managed to delude myself that I was still in my twenties
or something. So when Matt admitted that he was kind of losing it over the
upcoming day, I was just glad the party planning was already set in stone.
Because nothing makes a person feel younger than getting
together in a room, filled with
people they love, to laugh, cheer, eat, drink, and do all that ‘be merry’ stuff
that makes life the best thing ever.
I chose to surprise him with renting a suite at Chase Field,
on opening weekend, then filling it with 12 of his good friends, and get his dad and step-mom in from
California, and get family in from
Tucson, and get his mom in from
Mississippi, and somehow manage to
convince his sister and her 3 boys to make the trek out here from Boston.
And by some miracle of chance, all 23 of us (plus the
handful of people at his office who also knew what was going on) managed to
keep the layered secret since I first asked people to express their level of
interest in buying their ticket to the game, and celebrating Matt, back on
January 5.
Can I just for one second take a minute to acknowledge just how
difficult it is to keep that much awesomeness inside your body? Especially
considering:
- I’ve never kept secrets from Matt in the 17ish years we’ve known each other.
- He’s usually the first person I see at the end of the work day and I like recounting my day with him.
- I work at home, alone, so I like to yammer on for a while after he gets home.
- I just don’t lie. Ever. To anyone. Not anymore. I mean, when I was a kid, sure, but as an adult that seems pointless.
Boy was I ever wrong! The good news is I only had to tell
one lie during all of this scheming and plotting. Amazing to say the least.
So are you ready to relive the whole experience along with
me? Here’s how the timeline went…
January: Who’s
in?
January: Holy
crap, everyone is in?
January: Start
thinking about where to house people.
February: Collect
money from everyone – PayPal, shove
cash in my pocket at a happy hour, stop by after work and drop cash just
moments before Matt gets home (there was a lot of that kind of stuff).
February: Pay the
first half of the suite rental fee / repeatedly hunt down the ticket rep.
February: Start
the process of our home’s refi (meaning we shouldn’t put new, expensive
purchases on our credit card and obviously the extra added challenge I really
needed during party central planning stages).
February: Start
formulating how I/we would get Matt to the ballpark. Deposit the last of the
money from outside sources. Pay a huge chunk of the credit card bill & pray
it won’t be an issue for the refi.
March: Email Matt’s
boss/our loan officer to fill her in on the situation (AKA: don’t ask Matt
about huge charges on the card, ask me!)
March: Final
payment to suite rental. A small lull in party stuff ensues.
March: Close on
the refi and (because Matt doesn’t know we will have people sleeping here),
start doing construction again all around the house. Silently curse at my
ladder every time I walk by it.
March: See about
100 new gray hairs starting to sprout while I try to maintain my composure because
despite all the running to pick up/drop off, plan, email, etc. back and forth
on party business, I still have to work every day, clean the house, do the life
stuff I always do like there’s nothing else going on. Develop twitch over left
eye.
March: Watch as
my frayed nerve endings start jumping out of my body and realize there’s
nothing I can do about it. Sweep dead nerve endings under area rug to be dealt
with in April.
April: Finally!
But wait, my in-laws, I hear, have plans and can’t house family. I start
texting and making calls. Nobody responds in the ten seconds I expect them to
respond in. Sheesh, how rude!
April: Oh shit,
where will my SIL stay if my in-laws aren’t free? Agita takes hold.
April: Calls back
and forth with my MIL – we can split the cost for a hotel stay. Begin
researching hotels with a shuttle from the airport and/or are walking distance
to Chase or our house.
April: There are
zero hotels available in greater Phoenix. This is high season. You can stay in
Scottsdale for $400 a night, but only 4 of you, not 5.
April: FIL &
StepMIL save the day, the plans they had are altered, all 4 of the Boston fam
can stay at the RV, plus I don’t have to lie about where I’m going at 10PM on a
Thursday night because they have a vehicle big enough to pick up SIL and the kids
at the airport.
April: I manage
to exhale just a bit while I start doing the happy dance.
April: I tell
Matt my mom is also coming up for the weekend and have to lie when he questions
why – the one lie!
April: Coordinate
with my sister and mom to be the drivers to the ballpark and arrive for early
set up.
April: Consider
hugging my friends and not letting go when they agree to put up my MIL for the
night before the party as well as agree to be the carpool loading station for
the bulk of the group.
April 6: Create
an actual flowchart for the timeline of Friday’s events because I’m afraid of
forgetting some small detail that will throw off the entire thing and cause my
already thinning skull to implode.
April 4-7: Finish
the small construction projects that need done for safety when family is in
town, work, dry run to the ballpark so I don’t get lost, ensure Boston family
is in safe and sound. Drop tickets for friends who won’t be able to meet up
with the carpool caravan. Drool on myself and pass out on the sofa at 9PM just
about every night.
8:20AM Friday April
8: Matt leaves the house late for work, like really late, for the first time maybe in his life. The moment the
garage door closes I fly through a shower because I need to get to Sky Harbor
to pick up my MIL, which happens with no drama but lots of traffic. We get
breakfast then head to the mall to waste some time and catch up (this was
really nice, I don’t always get time with my MIL because she lives pretty far
away). My mom arrives at our house to drop some stuff. MIL and I head over to
meet mom (praying Matt doesn’t come home for lunch or something). Mom and MIL
take off for the afternoon. I haul ass up to the Musical Instrument Museum to
drop tickets and a parking pass to FIL, StepMIL, SIL & nephews. I haul ass
back home so I can clean before the rest of the Tucson family arrives for our “normal
weekend” routine.
4:18PM April 8: I
sit down on the couch with a snack, finish it, and go to get up to put my plate
in the sink when I realize my legs will literally not move. Sit staring at the
wall for about ten minutes while my brain does a hard reboot. Cannot compute.
System failure. Switching to back up brain for next 24 hours. Running at 11%
capacity.
5:00 – 5:15 April 8:
Pray my mom remembers how to get to friend’s house to drop MIL, get text from
Matt – he’ll be out 15 minutes early! Text friend to make sure my mom is on the
way back.
5:22 April 8:
Stare out front window praying the mom mobile rounds the corner before Matt.
She does! We get bags inside approximately 4 minutes before Matt rolls into the
driveway. Wendy & BIL roll in about 6:00. Drinks and a fun evening ensue.
Until Saturday mid-afternoon our weekend contained nothing
out of the ordinary – Matt made a couple runs to Harbor Freight to do a project
that morning, the family got showered and ready, and when Matt booted the
compressor they all took off to go meet the crew of peeps at our friend’s
place.
Then it was just the two of us.
And I knew he was going to want to lie down for an afternoon
nap so I had to tell him something.
“Do you love me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Okay, then you have 15 minutes to finish this project
before you have to be in the shower.”
“I knew it! I knew
something must be happening this weekend!”
And at 3:06PM on
April 9 we were on our way to Chase Field. I took a weird route to throw
him off. But it’s impossible to hide a ballpark. He started getting really
excited. He knew there would be at least 3 people at the game because they left
our house early.
I text Wendy to tell her we arrived.
We head to suite level and he about loses it because he never
sat in a suite at a ballgame before. I text Wendy that we’re a few minutes out.
We arrive at Suite 5 and I tap then he enters the room…
Countless phones are up recording his reaction as 22 amazing
people yell SURPRISE!!!!!
And let me tell you something right now. All the stress,
panic, exposed nerve endings of the last couple months? TOTALLY worth it at the sight of his face when he scanned the crowd
and discovered just who was there to celebrate him!
As the day wore on (into the wee hours of the morning with
the after party back at our place of course) small bits and pieces of the
planning and scheming were revealed but mostly it was a time where Matt could be
with so many people he loves. People he doesn’t get to see all that often.
My work was done. He was pretty much over the moon. And as
far as I’m concerned, that sounds so much more fun than being over the hill.
• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.
