Birthday in Berlin

This has been our annual 3-Way Birthday Weekend here in Berlin. Of course Becca's birthday is our #1 priority, but our friend Ruppi's birthday and that of his daughter Charlotte both are the same day as Becca's. When Becca was much younger, we would have coffee time at our house for Rebecca, and after she was in bed, we would go over and celebrate with Ruppi, giving Charlotte a big hug and a present before she would go to bed.

Those days are long gone. Becca just turned 14, Charlotte turned 18, and Ruppi turned 50 on Saturday. And today we are E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D. It is called "too much birthday." It all started with Charlotte insisting on having a big party on the Friday nigh before her birthday. In Germany, it is terrible luck to wish someone happy birthday before midnight of the actual birthday day, so if you would rather celebrate the day before, you "celebrate in." Basically up until midnight everyone ignores the fact that you are having a birthday, and then at midnight they pull out the hidden presents, flowers and champagne and toast your day. Think of New Year's eve on a smaller scale, and you get the picture. Charlotte desperately wanted to get rid of her parents for her 18th birthday. Imagine trying to entertain 20-30 18-year-olds in a tiny apartment with "the parentals" there, and you get the picture. Charly and Ruppi agreed to stay away until 2 a.m., when they said the party would need to be over so that they could function on Saturday for HIS birthday celebration . . .

Since at midnight Ruppi turned 50, it seemed a pretty sorry way to start his birthday, sitting in some lonely bar waiting to be allowed to go home . . . so we said, "We'll celebrate in, Ruppi. C'mon over." Shortly before midnight I sang "My favorite things" from Julie Andrews--it's the version she sang at the AARP (American Association of Retired Persons, for those who are reading this and are too young to know such important details), and it came just in time for Ruppi's birthday. Thank you, Doc Holmes, for thoughtfully sending it. After translating it, they could laugh with us. We pulled out the flowers I had gotten on Charly's behalf and hidden away for Ruppi, toasted him and then called our own Becca at her retreat to wish her a happy birthday.

Only one problem: Tim had to go to a conference all day Saturday, and left the house at 8. He had taken a nap, but since I had the guacamole and chocolate cake to make, no such luck for me. (The guacamole with chips and chocolate cake were delicious, thank you.) After going to bed at 2, when Charly and Ruppi left to go home, I got up with Tim at 7, cleaned up from Friday night and started in on Saturday's preparations for Rebecca, including decorating, wrapping, and last-minute gift-buying for yet ANOTHER birthday party on Saturday which I had opted out of, 4 being just a little over the top. And my Saturday included making a very creative poster out of our gift for Ruppi, which was a poster birthday card with 50 (count em) 50 Euro cent pieces attached to the poster with a glue gun to make the form of a 50 (Are you impressed? You should be!). I also wrapped up Charlotte's gift in a box that had held the champagne bottle Ruppi had brought. She thought that was quite clever, since she had started her birthday with champagne at midnight Friday night. Since creativity is not my strong suite, I was genuinely pleased with my efforts.

So you see, I started Saturday rather tired. At three in the afternoon our guests for Rebecca, complete with drop-ins (a carry-over from DDR days), began arriving. After stuffing our guests full of chocolate cake and all kinds of unhealthy candy and snacks, we apologized that my yummy broccoli salad (made with David's help) was not for their dinner (which ordinarily I would have had to have served to them) but for another party. We pushed them out the door and took off ourselves at 7 to go to Ruppi's official party of mostly his huge family and a few close friends. We came home around midnight, stuffed full of salads, dips and sandwiches, and had the joy of setting our clocks forward--yes, Europe is two weeks "off" in switching clocks.

Yawn. I'm pooped. Today is Europe day. We got as far as printing out the program, but Tim took a nap and didn't reappear until 8 p.m. I don't think we're going to the party of the Europe Festival, do you? Too bad. You don't often get a showing of the Blue Man Group for free . . .

In September I myself turn 50, and I've already been asked, "What are YOU going to do?" Here it is customary to throw your own party for your guests, and 30, 40, 50, and 60 are the "biggies." Anyone want to come over here and throw me a party???!