Moody Mania: A Birthday at Biltmore

What do the following three things have in common?

Each item/person pictured is thirty years old. Let me process this for a minute.

I entered a new DECADE!

When I was younger thirty just seemed so "out there." It didn't seem real. Thirty was an age for my teachers at school and church, the "working" folks, Moms at soccer games. Surely not little ME.

But instead of sulking I decided to focus on the many blessings October 2014 is bringing us. Both Ryan and I will turn thirty within nine days of each other, Emerson will soon be one, and my grandfather will be 85…that's 146 years to be thankful for on my side of the family. And I chose to LIVE IT UP.

However, sometimes life requires setbacks. Two days before my Birthday I lost my diamond ring. I looked everywhere and was physically sick over it. Imagine my disbelief when I found it on my DESK the following morning under a pile of business cards. I was so unbelievably thrilled that I went running around the office showing it to everyone as if I'd just gotten engaged.

That's one way to renew your vows...

Later that evening I joined this amazing group of girls for a Birthday Eve dinner at Liberty. It was absolutely DELICIOUS, and I loved my gifts. They are so good to me!

During our hilarious night together I recalled a story about a hideous sweater I had bought back in the day, and Megan says…"Which one?"

Wait a minute, are you implying that ALL my sweaters are hideous? I laughed so hard I cried. I tried to explain the equally disgraceful and atrocious design on this article of clothing so that they could get a visual. It basically had mini pom poms all over it.

Who decided that this was a good decision, and from what planet did they come? My sources tell me that it was the same person who designed this on the runway.

So THAT'S why it's called a "run way…because if someone made me wear this I'd RUN AWAY…FAR, FAR AWAY!!!

So many captions; I just couldn't stop myself.

I took a required selfie with Emerson at daycare on the morning of my Birthday. It's one of our new rituals.

When I arrived at work I had a Chick-Fil-A biscuit waiting on my desk, courtesy of Jeannie. It was "revival" good. HALLELUJER!

When I got home that afternoon Ryan gave me a card and some candy. Inside the card read…

"I guess you should pack some warm clothes this weekend, because the Hill House Bed & Breakfast will be awaiting our arrival for a weekend in Asheville."

WHAT?!!? A surprise getaway?!? I was absolutely stoked. Furthermore, Ryan had arranged for our parents to keep Emerson for the weekend.

There are so many brownie points in this equation that I'm not even sure this world-record sized baked good would cover it.

My Dad was famous for picking cheap hotels when we went on family vacations. Forget features like interior rooms, a working television, or even a toilet that's away from the door so you can shut it while using the restroom. Imagine that.

While his hotels of choice didn't pose an imminent threat to our family, they were far from a life of luxury.

You can stay where you want, but don't make it crazy.

I had never been to a Bed & Breakfast, but as soon as we arrived, "checked in" (which consisted of talking to the manager who walked out of her house behind the B&B), and got settled in our room, Ryan raised the bar about 100 feet from where it had been regarding travel accommodations.

That night we had dinner at Pack's Tavern (best chicken sandwich EVER!) and then walked around downtown Asheville. I found a stage. …and felt right at home at the center of it!

The next morning we sat in the formal dining room and enjoyed a delicious breakfast among about twelve other guests. It was just like home! We were all discussing where we were from and where we had traveled. I stopped short of saying, "Well, I went to Cozumel on my senior cruise and Houston for my brother's graduation!" because quite frankly, hearing the others talk of their frequent round the world excursions made me sound about as cultured as my last trip down aisle #5 at Wal-Mart.

I was later asked where we were from, and with my narrowed focus I blurted out, "Columbia!" That's it. No further explanation was needed. There is only one Columbia in my mind.

"Wow, that sounds beautiful. You guys have some great mountains and scenic views!" said the lady across from me.

I smiled, agreed, and then racked my brain for a second. From I-20 around exit 80 there is a large landfill and pile of trash. Is that what she was referencing? It was the only local mountain of which I was aware.

Ryan later told me that she was talking about Columbia, Missouri.

The Columbia twins. "Hey, you're an IMPOSTER!!!"

Good thinking, Katharine. News flash. Dillon and Columbia are not just cities in SC. In fact, one is a country in South America.

The Jessica Simpson school of geography.

That afternoon we took a tour of Biltmore. It was Ryan's first time, and he was super excited. Biltmore has very special meaning to me.

My parents first took us there in 1993, and big, tenderhearted Jay got upset when he saw a real bear rug.

I also went in 2011 with several dear friends for my Bachelorette weekend.

At the end of our tour, two little girls thought I was the princess of the castle. These days I'd hardly pass for the head maid.

Warning: marriage and motherhood can results in physical hazards.

And finally, I got to tour it again- this time with audio- for my 30th Birthday. It was SUCH a treat.

Visiting Biltmore is like watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. No matter how many times you've seen it before, you always catch something new.

"See y'all at 8:00 for dinner in that there formal dinin' room."

I am obsessed with Biltmore, the history behind it, the Vanderbilt family, the home construction, how they lived, what they did. It is absolutely fascinating to me. Apparently CNN's Anderson Cooper is a direct descendant of the Vanderbilts. How crazy is that?

I desperately wanted to go past the velvet ropes while at Biltmore. It was so intriguing…like when Adam & Eve were asked not to eat the fruit or when Belle was told that the West Wing was forbidden.

Biltmore has 250 rooms, 43 bathrooms, a swimming pool, gym, bowling alley. What's in a name? I guess they built more space than they needed. All that's missing is an intercom system for when I lose my keys.

And as much as we missed Emerson she wasn't too far away; I found two pairs of her socks in the pocket of my coat.

And later we found this coffee stand.

So THAT'S why she stays up all night. She has her own Coffee shop, for Heaven's sake.

Then we I decided that we were going shopping after our tour, and Ryan didn't want me to go alone. Ha! I bet he regrets that. Although, I was hindered from shopping in true form, because I felt myself being constantly watched.

Presenting the Ryan hovercraft, preventing over-spending in malls since the early 2000s. He hovers around and influences all my decisions, deterring me from anything with a hefty price sticker.

Oh, your air isn't on sale today? We don't need it.

On Sunday morning we had another delicious breakfast, and Ryan told me that we were going apple picking! Up until that point the closest thing I had done of this nature was inspecting boxes of Strawberries in Bi-Lo for mold before putting them in my shopping cart.

Those apples were HEAVY and also very HIGH. Thank God for my six foot companion.

I had an absolutely amazing time in Asheville, and to get away for ourselves for a weekend was much needed. He planned absolutely everything by himself. Ryan, I love you to death.

Because as much as I adore being a mother there are times when I just need to relax from all the responsibilities it entails.

Our heartfelt weekend CONTINUED on Sunday afternoon when we met my Mom's sister, brother, and their families to celebrate what would have been Grandmama Alice's 100th Birthday. We had lunch, sang Happy Birthday and ate caramel cake that was out of this world, and reminisced about her while looking at old photos. I wouldn't have traded that time with them for anything! And it was incredibly special to have Emerson ALICE celebrate with us as my grandmother lives on.

Other Birthday celebrations of which to make note are as follows: we celebrated our combined 146 years of Birthdays recently at Nanny & Papa's. What a blessing it is to all be together. If only the grocery store hadn't written "y'all" incorrectly on the cake and McAlister's had actually labeled our individual sandwiches as promised. (And I could have kicked myself for forgetting my nice camera for this occasion).

And as preparations are well under way for Emerson's ~~wedding reception~~ first Birthday party, one of the required elements were her professional pictures. Mama, Emerson, and I- stuffed full in a van with all kinds of props, outfit changes, and other elements- made our way to Conway one beautiful Saturday afternoon.

It couldn't have gone more smoothly; we arrived right on time, found our location easily, the weather was beautiful, and Emerson was in a good mood.

So how does one go about ruining a perfectly good afternoon? I'll make it easy for you.

A) Lock my Mom's keys in the van

B) Lock my Mom's keys in the van

C) Lock my Mom's keys in the van

D) All of the above

The events that followed included several frantic calls to local locksmiths, a call to the police department who told me that it was "after 5:30 on a Saturday, so they weren't sure if they could help me" ????, and finally a rescue call to a tow truck company who came and saved the day. They opened the door with a device that looked like a blood pressure cuff. It's a good thing he didn't check mine.

What a bind I put us in! We were 60+ miles from home, had my DAD'S keys, too, so he couldn't come, and all of Emerson's food was in the car with the exception of one bottle that she was downing instantly while waiting practically in-the-nude on the front steps of a church. In fact, she was being washed by our photographer and my Mom in a nearby spicket after the cake smashing episode.

"Free baptisms on the lawn! First come, first served!"