I’m a holiday baby. I was born on the 26^th of May (write it down, I expect a card) and the 26^th always falls right around Memorial Day weekend. If I wasn’t as deeply grateful as I am for the sacrifices made by our military for my freedom and safety, I would almost joke that my birthday is a National Holiday. However, out of respect for our armed forces that are way more badass than I’ll ever be, I’ll just be honored to be celebrated in general proximity to their holiday and extremely grateful for my 3 day birthday weekend every year. My big weekend is usually always perfect weather, hot enough for swimming but cool enough to want to be outside. People are by default friendly and fun loving and Anheuser-Busch goes into over-production mode for party-goers. It’s the perfect time to celebrate.

You’re all jealous now aren’t you? I can see you there considering how poor it is to be born on some ordinary date in March that typically always falls on a rainy Monday when the coworkers are cranky and oblivious that anything is special in your world. Well, cheer up because I haven’t told you about the Birthday Curse.

It all began when I turned 21. This is supposed to be the monument of all monumental birthdays, correct? I planned my perfect weekend for months. My closest friends from all over the US were going to gather at a cabin in the Smokey Mountains. We had a hot tub, pool table, grilling deck, and were far enough on top of the mountain to be as loud and obnoxious as we wanted. Great plan, right? Negative. It was a disaster. From the moment we all unpacked there were horrendous fights and I lost one of my most valued friendships of all time that weekend. The heated confrontations weren’t the worst of the drama either. Another friend of mine had to be taken to the hospital for fear of a heart attack, someone else got a stomach virus and to top it off I fell and cracked my head on the hot tub – not once, but twice. The Birthday Curse had commenced.

Every birthday since has been become a mini-crusade to try to recoup for the tragedies of my 21^st but every celebration has failed incredibly. I’ve had more trips to the hospital, friendly-fire wars and family meltdowns than any once person should ever have to endure.

-JUMP TO THE PRESENT-

I wrote that part of the blog last year after seemingly breaking The Birthday Curse. My 27^TH birthday arrived and departed without incident and a wonderful time was had by all. Then four days later was my husband’s car accident, forever adding another layer of shadows around my special day. As that anniversary grows nearer, my loved ones are pretty concerned with keeping me in good spirits and now we find ourselves planning another birthday Memorial Day weekend.

In true eL. fashion… it’s already shaping up to be SPECTACULAR! My best friend Megan and I are taking the kids to the beach! All of the stars seemed to align to make this trip possible. Even the beautiful condo we rented was ridiculously affordable. I booked the trip and told the kids. “WOOHOO!!! We’re going to the beach!!!”

Then I get a phone call from Megan and by the tone of her voice I knew bad news was in tow. “I know why our condo was so affordable.”

“Oh no.”

“It’s Black Bike Week 2009 that weekend,” she said.

*insert freaky JAWS baseline here*

I HAVE THE WORST LUCK ON THE PLANET!!!!

Why is this such a big deal? The city of Myrtle Beach has tried banning this annual gathering for YEARS. Below is a screen shot of one of their many websites. If you’re really brave, do a Google image search. Just remember I’m taking my 3 & 5 year old children on this trip.

When I called the condo company back about rescheduling my trip, they actually laughed at me.

I’m sure there will be plenty of blog material next week. Stay tuned.

A coworker once told me when I was pregnant with my daughter, “Enjoy it while you can. She’ll be grown before you know it.” I must have heard this cliché a hundred times in my short while as a young mother but during two a.m. feedings and diaper changes it felt like I was going to have an infant for all of eternity. Canaan just turned five. I’m still in denial over it because there is no way that I am mother to a kindergartener. It seems like just days ago I was cleaning up poop finger paintings in her nursery. Yeah, gross I know. She’s turned into this small person with thoughts and feelings and (freak out) opinions. I’m waiting for her any day to give me insight in who to vote for this election.

In her five years on the planet Earth Canaan has lived a lot of life. Much like her mother, she’s already experienced joys and losses of people eight times her age. This year has been a confusing nightmare for both of my kids and for Canaan especially. I remember, with painful clarity, the morning I went into her bedroom, scooped her up in my arms and told her that Daddy wasn’t going to be able to take her swimming after lunch. It was the worst day of all of our lives.

So about six weeks ago I decided to plan Canaan’s birthday party. I looked at all of the possibilities: the bouncy place, the park, the tiny piece of hell-on-earth Chuck E Cheese. None of the options in Nashville seemed suitable for such a big event in her life during such a hard year, so I knew I had to dream a little bigger.

A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep. In dreams you lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep. Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through. No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true.

We packed our bags and headed to Disney World.

The trip was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It was a COMPLETE surprise to the kids. I literally told them just hours before putting them on the plane. This year has just been so terrible that I decided it was worth giving my kids the surprise of a lifetime. Sure, it’s not my paradise, but Disney is like the Bora Bora for kids. My friend Brenda, knowing me ever so well, said of our trip, “Normally I think being in the “Happiest Place on Earth” would get on your very last nerve, however right now it may be just what you need to level yourself out.” She was right.

Our first day there we went to SeaWorld and got to listen to Will sing his own theme song all day, “Who we gonna see? Shampu! Shampu!” And we did! I seriously considered quitting my job and learning to train killer whales for a living. It was amazing.

Day two was at the Magic Kingdom. When Canaan’s eyes landed on Cinderella’s castle for the first time the look on her face was priceless. I thought she was going to cry she was so excited. We went off on a trek across the park for a prearranged meeting with Peter Pan. Peter presented her with a very special “Happy Birthday” button and autographs from Tinkerbelle, Wendy and all the Lost Boys. Then I made the mistake of taking her on the Pirates of Caribbean and scaring the bejezus out of her. Good one Mom. Apparently Canaan doesn’t share my same enthusiasm for a hot, robotic, Cap’n Jack singing “Yo ho, yo ho a Pirate’s life for me!” Thankfully, soon after, all was put right with the world when she got to meet all of her favorite princess and Mommy got to shoot a lot of video of Prince Charming. J

Day three we were at Epcot and we stood in line for about twenty minutes to meet Mickey Mouse and all of his friends. My son was so excited when he saw Mickey that he took off in a dead run and nearly fell on his face trying to stop when we called him back. He got to dance with Donald Duck and show off his acrobatic moves, got a kiss that turned him red from Alice in Wonderland and huge hug from Dopey the Dwarf. At that moment, my sister and I both almost quit our jobs and signed up to play characters at Disney. I mean, what better job could there be than this:

 Canaan’s birthday lasted for seven days. All seven days she proudly wore her Happy Birthday button and was sung to and presented with cake for dinner every night. It was a week of memories that will last for eternity. And guess what folks? When October 2^nd rolls around next year…. I’m screwed.