Dan is 31.

As you can see, I'm terribly behind on blogging. I won't do a catch up posts, but rather have a goal to do several short posts over the next few weeks. And if that doesn't happen, I'm just going to give up on writing things in the past and just start fresh with what's happening right now.

Dan turned the big 3-1 this year, and as I usually do, I planned way way way ahead of time and got 90% of the preparation done and then totally forgot about the last 10% until it was too late, and the whole thing looked like a failure.

We should all worn shirts like June's for Dan's big day. Though I guess mine would say "I Heart Dan" not "I Heart Dad".

As you may recall, we celebrated Dan's birthday early. We Taco Bell-ed, we Avenger-ed, and I felt really good about myself. Wife Numero Uno over here. Meaning the best, not the first of many.

I had great intentions to plan a fantastic dinner and dessert and outing for his actual birthday, but there was one big problem.

I forgot.

Yep, I kind of forgot about Dan's actual birthday. In fact, he had to go out of town for work a few days before his birthday, and I told him that when he got back, I'd really like to attend a neighbor's band concert. He asked which day, and I said, "Wednesday evening at 7." And he said, "Oh okay, no problem. I thought we might do something for my birthday then, but that's fine."

To which I replied, "What birthday?"

How many bad brain moments can I blame on my kids before that gets old? Am I already there? Have I already exceeded my quota?

When I realized it was HIS birthday that Wednesday, I kinda inwardly freaked out while trying to act outwardly calm. I don't think he bought it.

Nevertheless, he came home late on his birthday eve to a sign the girls made for the wall, which was held up with some old velcro I found because we were out of tape. This is not pictured here, both because my phone has been eating my pictures, and because the sign is just another reminder of my many failures and my posterity doesn't need one more failure staring them in the face from this blog.

We did go to breakfast on his birthday at our little town's little local diner.

New Jersey is known for their diners, but I say--Diners are NOT good! Do you agree or disagree?

And then that night, instead of celebrating, he shooed me off to the concert and watched the kids. He's a stud and makes 31 look super young and hip. And not "replacement hip" either.

Feeling quite remorseful, the next day I ran to the store and grabbed the ingredients for his favorite dinner and dessert and also this lobster-stuffed pretzel that was calling my name.

It was delish and may have totally redeemed me from "Forgotten Birthday 2018".

Happy Birthday, Dan! May we celebrate many, many more forgotten birthdays together.