Archive for the ‘birthday’ Tag
November 15 2011
Birthdays are made to be special. Seeing your child grow up another year, and all of it’s accomplishments, is definitely a reason to celebrate. Some just go about it more extravagantly than others.
There are those who begin devising the perfect birthday party theme months in advance. They scour Pinterest boards for inspiration. The entire event must coordinate and match perfectly, from outfits to games to the table setting specially purchased to the elaborate cake artfully crafted.
That’s not how I do it here.
And so I present to you, how to pull off the lamest birthday party possibly ever:
1. Real invitations are cute, but not worth the effort. My preferred invite system is sending an email or over Facebook chat. The more impersonal, the better.
2. Dinnerware consists of paper plates, plastic cups, and plastic forks.
3. Balloons are festive, except when you blow up the same kit of helium balloons for each kid on each birthday, year after year. The helium balloons that begin to deflate before the first party guests even arrive.
4. Refer to party goers as “guests”, but it’s really just a few members of family. Because you’re crazy for inviting school friends.
5. The skating rink and swimming pool are fun places to hold your festivities, if you’re into that. Because there’s nothing more comfortable than home. Where the main entertainment is placing bets on who drips food on their shirt first.
6. Let the bakery at the grocery store make your cake. If you happen to forget until the last minute, recruit Grandma to bake some cupcakes that somehow melt and fuse together. They’ll love it as long as they don’t know any better.
With these easy tips, you’ll be throwing a lame birthday get-together, too. Just make sure your child never attends one of the more elaborate events, or else then you’re just screwed.
November 10 2011
Dearest Jedi,
As I am writing this, you are proudly burping at the desk across from me. Every time, you ask delightedly, “Did you hear that?”. Every time I say, “Of course I did”. Because of course I did.
For your birthday today, along with a few other things, I bought you a book where the main premise had to do with farts. Super farts that could make you fly into the air.
This is you at 8. My son. My boy. Farting and burping.
But so much more. You a genius on the computer. What you know how to do honestly astounds me. You have surpassed my knowledge by leaps, and I’ve found myself asking you how to do things on a number of occasions. Your Grandma likes to say that maybe you’ll be the next Bill Gates. She may not be far off.
You are brilliant and beautiful and excited. Dramatic and loud. A torpedo of constant motion and conversation. And as much as you complain when your siblings invade your space, as impatient as you can be, I also see how you look out for them when you think no one is watching. You make sure Buzz is safe at school and you comfort Abby when she’s upset. You are a wonderful big brother.
I am so proud of you in so many ways. And as I finish writing this, as if right on cue, you exclaimed, “Now that I smell it, my farts really do smell bad”.
My farting, burping, smelly, amazing now 8 year old boy.
Happy Birthday.
Love,
Mom
July 25 2011
Dearest Abby,
Yesterday, you turned 3 years old. You had been waiting for this day for an eternity it seemed, singing Happy Birthday to yourself for months. I hope it lived up to the hype.
You are now a big girl. Not a baby, not even a toddler. You’ve crossed the threshold into preschool age.
This past year, you have surpassed all expectations. We carry on conversations, an honest back and forth, where your strong opinions are always known. You also make me laugh like no one else, your smile beams like the sun across a room. You love the iPhone and markers and that darn Curious George. You also enjoy chasing after your brothers. In fact, you follow Buzz everywhere you shouldn’t. I firmly believe you enjoy the thrill of getting in trouble, a harrowing sign of what’s to come, and you find yourself in plenty of it. Yet, you are my helper, my tail, my girl who wants to do it all.
And when your small hand hugs around my neck, your head resting on my shoulder as I inhale the strawberry scent of your curls, I think this. This is exactly how it should be.
My pretty girl. My silly girl. My Abby-mouse. You are the epitome of vibrant. Better than I could have ever imagined a daughter could be.
I love you, sweetheart. Always.
Happy Birthday.
July 05 2011
My brother and his family came by this past Friday night to belatedly celebrate my birthday. With food and good times along with a present. Because in they came carrying a pink Victoria’s Secret gift bag.
I like Victoria’s Secret. Just not from my brother.
I tried not to fixate on this gift bag as it sat on the coffee table in front of us while we made small talk. And there it stayed while the kids filled every corner around it with play and amusing dance moves. We ate dinner with it directly in front of me, pink tissue paper billowing from the top, and watched I Am Legend. It was difficult to pay attention, however, as this bag kept me captivated from the corner of my eye. But not once did I peek in, because frankly I was scared.
When it was time to open my birthday gift, my brother’s girlfriend must have finally took notice of my trepidation. She explained, “We didn’t get you Victoria’s Secret. It was just the only feminine kind of bag I had.”.
“Oh, phew!”, I responded as my apprehension lightened. “Because that would have been awkward.”
We all had a mighty laugh at just how awkward it could have been as I reached into that Victoria’s Secret bag. And instead of being presented with underwear, however, I was given by my brother an adjustable, handheld “massager”. With, as the package states, a smooth tip and 3 side surfaces for “energizing relief of stress related tension”. For personal use only.
Still a little bit awkward.
June 27 2011
That saying isn’t true. I am here to tell you that you can forget how to ride a bike. I remember being a preteen, laughing at my mom as she wobbled unsteadily on my 10-speed in our rock-covered driveway, unsure how to balance herself anymore. Not even minutes earlier, she was wondering aloud, “How hard can it be? I used to ride a bike everywhere when I was a kid”.
Apparently pretty hard.
She gave it a good try and I appreciated the effort, and the laugh, but she never made it with both feet on the pedals. Defeated and embarrassed, she passed the handlebars back to me as I gathered myself assuredly on top of the gold-sparkled blue banana boat seat and took off. A kid sure to never forget how it feels to have my feet carry my body through the wind.
I think I remember how to ride a bike. But your mind, it plays tricks on you. There’s no way of knowing until you try.
Life is unexpected and I’ve been thrown off this past year. Everything that I had known previously isn’t what I thought. I’m unsure and unbalanced. It’s so easy to lose myself in everything I’ve lost, but I still have what’s important. And even though I’m trying my best to push through, I might need a bit of help, even if I’m a little defeated at first. I’m ready to feel the wind again.
Maybe this will be the year I get back up and ride. It should be. And if I don’t know how to steady myself anymore, I’ll learn again. It’s time to get both feet on the pedals. I think today is a good day to start.
