OK… that’s pretty much a rule my mother and I have followed almost since my birth. BUT… this year, I have taken it upon myself to shake things up a bit. I managed to convince my mother that this year her birthday should be spent at Benihana.

For reals.

Now before you comment on how selfish I am … I ask you.. where else would you see such cute pictures?

So in a way, I’m providing my mother with a different dining experience from the norm with her cute grandchildren.  (Miss Nat isn’t pictured above because she was busy working on the Sudoku puzzles inside the Benihana hat and wouldn’t look up for the camera.)

And one thing you don’t get at a Michelin star restaurant is entertainment for three children seven and under.

The kids were entertained by Hibachi Chef KAM who not only played with the food before the kids ate it -

But he managed to entertain my grandmother who was entranced with how much he resembled my great grandmother. Seriously. According to my grandmother.

But wait… I realized something and then asked my grandmother to clarify her statement -

moi: You mean the hostess looks like your mother right grandma?

grandma: No this man right here cooking for us.

And my mother confirmed.

So there you have it, by going to Benihana yesterday, we may not have dined on slow baked nova scotia halibut with chanterelles but we did learn my great grandmother looked like a man, baby. A man! And that is why I will never forget my mother’s hibachi birthday celebration.

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Some of it was variations on “its about time” or “wasn’t he already living there”.

But I got a few emails and comments which made me wonder what gives.

One email from my father asked me if my guy hasn’t already moved in then maybe I should consider not letting him because “its easy to move in but hard to move out”. The sad thing is, my father actually didn’t know a quarter about my life with my guy and people who follow me on Twitter actually knew more.

My father along with a few other emails made me wonder why people think everyone else should abide by their idea of the right time.

I’m old enough to figure out things in my life and while nothing has ever gone super smooth in my personal life, I do believe I can think and make the right decision for myself and my children.

And I can honestly say it would be wrong for me to not have made the decision I made.

So while I appreciate the feedback, understand that three paragraphs about my life isn’t enough for you to scold me because you don’t agree with my personal decisions.

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1. Some pregnant women look ridiculously amazing – read Jory.

2. I’m not willing to put down a Hillshire Farms mini sandwich to take a picture with anyone (read Bruce Jenner) unless its Adam.

3. Going on a shuttle to an event requires an eagle eye being kept on your purse. Otherwise you are left thinking about different scenarios about who now has your purse which contains everything that requires you to stand on line in order to replace.

4. When you get invited to an offsite party where you are fed dessert, its hard to not declare it the Best BlogHer Party Ever. Although, sitting directly in front of Gavin DeGraw at said party may also have something to do with that.

5. Waking up early for breakfast during BlogHer FTW #tasteloews

6. I support my friends in the sweltering heat. The heat had nothing to do with me deciding the best daytime event was Getting Gorgeous hosted by Vera Sweeney and Audrey McClellan.

7. Decorating a pair of flip flops using a hot glue gun and drinking pomegranate infused water in the Dove room (at the Unilever suite at the Royalton Hotel) proves there can be fun at a cocktail event even when you aren’t drinking.

Thanks #BlogHer10 for these lessons.

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The remote was mine to change the channel. The fridge was mine to decide what got top shelf billing and the closet housed shoes and clothes that had grown comfortable about their position.

It was fun while it lasted.

Two weeks ago, my guy officially moved in with his stack of boxes, pigeon patrolling cat and idea about the correct way to open a Popsicle. I can confidently say the kids and I will never be the same.

And I’m pretty sure none of us would have it any other way.

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Growing up all I wanted was a birthday party with friends at a roller rink. I’ll be honest, a birthday party with friends anywhere, would have been nice.

What I got year after year was a family birthday party with photo ops in front of an ice cream birthday cake with flowers on it. Some years, my sister and I would fight over who would get the pink rose from the cake. That kind of birthday celebration got dull, pretty quickly.

At one point, I told my mother I didn’t like cake so she would stop her humdrum version of a celebration. Looking back, I think my birthday experiences are the reason why I’ve been over the top for my kidlets’ birthdays — so they always have fun memories.

Because memories like the one I have of me turning 20 — physically becoming ill from the idea of no longer being a teen and having to go home early from work – are not fun. Sure I returned to work the next day to a desk full of cute toys and cards from coworkers which made me smile but I didn’t forget I was no longer a teen.

Birthdays are just not my thing.

Over the years, I’ve spent birthdays moving into my new office or having dinner at home because I was pregnant and couldn’t go out and drink. There hadn’t been anything memorable since turning 20.

So last year, I planned a birthday to make up for all the lack of memorable birthdays I had. The rain came down and ruined part of the birthday but I will never forget dressing up in a Betsey Johnson dress only a teen should wear and going out to dinner and dancing followed by an early morning stop at a diner.

If I never celebrate a birthday like that again, I will at least be able to say I truly celebrated my birthday once.

I reminded myself of that this morning when I woke up because today is my birthday. Of course my birthday falls on a Monday. I’m not surprised. This is the birthday which I turn O-L-D. So I’m going to take it easy today. And just relax while I sign up for my AARP card. .

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