Merry Birthday to me.

When I was little, I hated that my birthday was three days before Christmas.

My aunt loves to tell the story of when I was little and she gave me a birthday present wrapped in Christmas paper and I told her EXACTLY how much that bothered me.

I got a lot of "This is for your birthday and Christmas" gifts that I learned to accept graciously, but I grumbled on the inside every time.

But now? Now I love that my birthday is three days before Christmas. It's almost always the last day of the school year before Christmas break. Everyone is in a fabulous mood, it's a very fun day at work, and sometimes I like to pretend like all the celebrating is for my birthday. (What? At least I can admit it!)

Today, my sweet B took the day off work so that I could go into and home from work without rushing to drop off/pick up the boys. My wonderful coworker made me gluten-free, casein-free brownies. I've already had several heartwarming renditions of "Happy Birthday" by my sweet students. And only a few people have told me "Happy Birthday AND Merry Christmas." (You can't blame a girl for still not liking the combined greetings thing.)

But there's one more thing that hasn't happened. I haven't met my fundraising goal. I'm ELEVEN measly dollars away from my goal. I'm at 97% of the $340. If eleven of you will give the one dollar to help people get clean water, you'll make my birthday wish come true. It's a safe site and you'll even be emailed a receipt.

***Edited to add: I made my goal!! But don't let that stop you from giving. We watched a video at church last week of our pastor interacting with gorgeous kids in a developing country. The children were absolutely giddy over their new clean water. It's a fantastic cause. And THANK YOU again to those of you who donated! You made my birthday wish come true!!

(And if you have already donated, thank you...I'm waiting to get the thank-you e-mails out until tomorrow when I can sit down and do them all at once. But I am very grateful.)

Want to give a dollar? Go here: FirstGiving - Your fundraising

Namaste.

My birthday wish

When it comes to birthdays, I'm a big kid. I love my birthday, I make a big deal out of other people's birthdays. My birthday is in three weeks from today and I've been talking about it since October.

I'm the kind of person who loves gifts. Honestly, it doesn't matter what it is. A pack of gum, a hand-me-down...I get excited over anything.

But this year, I want to do something different for my birthday. Our church is very involved with Living Water International, a faith-based group that raises money to dig wells in developing countries. Every time they show a video of these kids, giddy over finally getting clean water, I cry big tears. And last week, they educated us about the fact that lack of clean water kills more people than anything else.

So this year? The best gift for me is a donation to Living Water International. All I'm asking is for one dollar from each person. You won't miss that...you know you won't. All online donations are secure.

I'm turning 34 and my goal is to raise $340 for Living Water International. Will you help me make my birthday wish come true? Please?

Click on the link below to help. Happy Birthday to me!

FirstGiving - Your fundraising

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine if a birthday party you threw went dreadfully wrong?

Like, oh, I don't know, what if your husband insisted that he would bring everything foil-wrapped in the refrigerator out to the car and forgot the two pans of gluten-free, casein-free brownies that were for dessert?

Can you imagine if he had to run to Wal-Mart to get a second cookie cake to replace them at the last minute?

Oooh, and what if after that, half your guests didn't even show after all and you were left with an unopened cookie cake that you and your kids couldn't even eat? That'd be crazy, wouldn't it?

Can you imagine if you made the smash cake yourself since your baby had suspected food allergies and it turned out so ugly that you considered telling people that your four-year-old had made it?

Or, gosh, hmmm...what if you had all the bags for the party in one spot...and that same husband grabbed all the bags except one. What if it had all the adorable decorations that you made a special trip to borrow from a blog-friend? Can you imagine arriving to the party with NO decorations whatsoever?

Can you imagine if you decided to do a cute baseball themed party with hot dogs and nachos for dinner and the nacho cheese took so long to heat up in the Crock-Pot that you had to tell your guests to heat it in the microwave?

Oh, and what if Walgreens lost all the pictures that your friend took that you were going to use as decorations? And you didn't realize it till right before the party?

Can you imagine if the person who was supposed to bring the high chair forgot that too?

What if all this happened at the party that you had to reschedule because the first one had to be canceled due to a family stomach flu?

Well, I am here to tell you that you'd survive.

That a friend would come through to rescue you with her box of decorations.

That you'd find one sole flag banner stuffed in the food bag that had the perfect number of flags on which to quickly write C-O-N-C-E-S-S-I-O-N-S and hang over the food table.

That you'd bring the leftover food to a family Labor Day barbecue the next day.

That no one would care how godawful that smash cake looked, especially since it was going to get smashed anyway.

That forgetting the high chair just meant that you got to be extra close to the little man while he dove into his cake, and that an empty Capri-Sun box doubled as a perfectly good booster chair after a few minutes..

That no one would miss the decorations after all because there was an awfully cute guest of honor on which to focus.






















That no matter what was forgotten or who didn't show...what mattered was that the room was filled with smiles, squeals of delight from the kids, and love for the birthday boy.

That sometimes simpler parties remind you of what's really important.

Saturday Morning Scene: The Morning After Edition

I'm back after an unplanned blogging hiatus to bring you my Saturday morning scene.

Last night, we held Gray's (rescheduled thanks to a family stomach bug) birthday party. So many things went wrong that at one point, I turned to my friend Elizabeth and said, "At least this will make for a good blog post."

And I promise to tell you all about it soon.

For now, enjoy what I'm looking at this morning...a sneak peek of last night's festivities by Elizabeth.

Clearly, he had no idea about all the snafus. Happy baby one-year-old eating cake = successful birthday party.

Namaste.

Happy Birthday, Baby G

Dear Gray,

For as long as I can remember, I'd hoped and prayed for two little boys. I never thought I'd be lucky enough for that wish to be granted, but you came along and made my dream come true. You know what, Gray-Bear? It's been everything I've hoped for and more.


You are the sweetest, cuddliest little boy I have ever met. Everyone who meets you remarks about the fact that you are oh-so-snuggly. We call you Bear at home, and without knowing that, your teachers started calling you Bear because you are like a little cub, holding onto his mama. You melt the hearts of everyone you meet, and everyone from the school nurse to teachers who work in other rooms come in to get their Grayson fix.

And still, you have quite the mischievous side. You like to steal your big brother's snacks or hit him with a toy-turned-weapon, and then laugh. Although when you want my attention, you say "Mama," when I ask you to say my name, you say, "Dada," then grin impishly. You are a stinker and I absolutely adore that side of you. I can't wait to see how that part of your personality plays out as you get older.


You've been walking since you were 10 months old and once you realized your legs could do such an amazing thing, you never crawled again. You are fearless and determined and I know those personality traits will take you far. Just be careful, for you've got my heart in your hands.




You have bonded with your daddy and your big brother so well. Watching you with them makes me thank God for all of you. And our bond is obvious to everyone who sees us together. You still nurse in the middle of the night and I love that time with you. People say that when you see me, your eyes visibly light up. I know how you feel because my heart feels like it's about to burst if I've been away from you during the day. When I pick you up out of your crib and you lay your head on my shoulder, I say an extra prayer that you don't grow up too fast.

Happy Birthday, Little Bear. Thank you for making our family complete and my dreams come true. Stay as sweet, as mischievous, as lovey-dovey as you are today. I hope that one day, I can show you just how much I love you, little man.
Love Always,
Mama

Happy Birthday, indeed.

When L was born, I vowed that I'd never host a birthday party at my house. Part of that was because my house is roughly the size of a shoebox. The other reason is that I've seen kids' birthday parties cause out-of-control stress and I'd prefer to keep that out of my home.

Luckily, we had really great parties the first three years.

After a recent playdate at an inflatable place where L and his best buddy had an absolute blast, we booked the party there.

They supply pizza, cake, sodas, and juice boxes. The kids play for an hour and fifteen minutes on the inflatables and then move to the party room for a 45 minute cake-presents-mingling time. What could go wrong, right?

Well.

Considering L is allergic to pizza and cake, we decided that we'd make our own cupcakes. And when I say we, I mean me.

Have I ever mentioned that I don't bake? Because I don't. I have been known to throw away batches of brownies, pan and all.

More than once.

But I love my kid. And one of my IRL besties, Laura, posted a fantastic chocolate cupcake recipe that I thought I'd try.

I even did a trial run on the cupcakes a week before the party because I was making a few substitutions and also because of the whole throwing-brownies-away thing. My trial run went so well that I'll post the recipe the next time I get blogger's block soon.

So what could go wrong, right?

The day before the party, L hadn't eaten all day and we were afraid he was getting sick. We waited to attend the later church service and went to dinner after that. Turns out, L was fine, but I hadn't made the cupcakes since I wasn't about to bake 24 cupcakes if I didn't absolutely need to.

So I put off the baking until Sunday morning. We had to be at the party at 9:50 am, it was daylight savings, and I suck at baking. However, apparently I still thought it would be a good idea to bake in the morning. B may or may not have encouraged me to make them the night before, but I insisted on waiting. I was too tired after church and I'd surely make a mistake. I'd be much better off well-rested.

You all see where this is going.

About 7 minutes after I put the first batch of chocolate cupcakes in the oven, it hit me.

I'd doubled the recipe...

...all but the sugar.

I may have cried. I may have screamed. I may have even used the mother of all curse words. Allegedly.

I didn't have the time or the ingredients to make enough for the party.

B insisted that we leave the messed-up batch in the oven. I threw the rest of the batter away and started the next batch (not doubled). I had exactly the amount of ingredients we needed. 

During the next thirty minutes, I:

• made the second batch and threw it in the oven
• called my mom, telling her not to eat any cupcakes due to the fact that now I wouldn't have enough
• barked directions to B regarding L's gift, the diaper bag, bathing G, etc.
• sighed over the fact that I wouldn't get a shower before my kid's party
• shoveled bacon in my mouth between tasks
• prayed that the first batch would be edible
• prayed that we'd get there on time, as a family
• called my mom again, asking her to pick up a bag of ice to keep the Italian Ices cold
• apologized to B for freaking out
• tasted the first batch and realized they were indeed edible and just tasted like chocolate muffins
• thanked God for answering my prayer
• got the second batch out of the oven
• threw on a tee and jeans, brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair
• realized I hadn't had time to pump and would therefore have to nurse G at the party
• made icing and frosted the cupcakes, even though they weren't quite cool enough
• grabbed my makeup so I could put it on in the car
• doused myself with perfume and leapt in the car with seconds to spare

Still, God smiled on my little man's party, because after a ridiculously crazy morning, it somehow ended up a huge success.

Kids had fun flying down the slides.

Adults had fun flying down the slides.

Blog friends-turned-IRL friends and their cute boys had fun.

IRL-friends-turned-blog-friends had fun with my boy.

G got to play in the baby area with some cougars baby girls a bit older than him.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Everyone ate and enjoyed the cupcakes, and there were even a few leftovers. Loaves and fishes, I tell ya.

Sadly, the second child got absolutely no attention. Poor G.

Presents were opened. I said "Backupbackupbackupbackup" more times than one should ever say.

Daughters-of-IRL-turned-blog-friends got excited about their goody bag favors.

L rocked an awesome shirt from one of my bloggy besties.

As we got in the car, L said, "Dat was da best party. I am so happy." 

Cupcake malfunctions? What cupcake malfunctions? That party was nothing but successful.

Happy Birfday, indeed.

In order to understand this whole post, you have to read my very whiny Christmas post first.

My little brother is 26 months younger than me, and we've always been good friends. He's super witty and has always made me laugh harder than anyone. Last night was no exception. He presented me with a birthday present in a very special bag, decorated by him.









Later, I sent him a text to thank him for the gorgeous masterpiece. After the initial thank-you, our texts were as follows:

Me: The tree might be my favorite even though it got chopped down.

Bro: It was inspired by the giving tree. Even though it was chopped down it still provided fire for the smores.

Me: L likes that book. Maybe I can add the bag to the rotation of bedtime stories. I will leave out Elvis dying on the toilet, though.

Bro: It's better he learns from you than on the streets.

Me: Good point. Did you know that Santa wrote him a letter? It explained that his cape was going to be late. Perhaps I should have asked L's creative uncle for an excuse.

Bro: After tonight I think I might tell him Rudolph ate too many cookies before he flew and threw up in your kitchen, then Santa had to clean it up with his cape. I don't know it just seems like that sort of thing is possible.

Touche.

Hope you all find something silly today that makes you giggle. Merry Christmas, and namaste.

Cupcake cure-all

You've heard of Murphy's Law, right? Anything that can go wrong will go wrong? On Wednesday, I had one of those mornings. I was all prepared for our day, which included a birthday party for L's BFF that was about 45 minutes away. I had the present wrapped...just had to add the card. I had figured in enough time to stop by the gluten-free bakery to pick up a special cupcake for L. My GPS was sitting on the seat of my car. We were good to go.

As we were walking out the door to leave, L informed me that he had to poop. Glad that the urge hit him before he was strapped in his carseat and we were on the road, I followed him to the bathroom.

And his poor little tummy was obviously not happy because he had a very yucky poop. I'll spare you the details.

So then my mind started racing.

Should we stay home? I hate when people bring sick kids out in public, or around other kids in general.

What if it was nothing, and we stayed home for no good reason?

What if he threw up in my car?

Ew. Car seat puke. I decided we'd stay home for a while and see what...if anything...happened. I figured no more rumblies in the tumbly meant that we were safe to go.

40 minutes later, L had insisted several times that he was fine. I chalked it up to him chugging chocolate soy milk on an empty stomach and we decided to go.

I knew we were short on time. My friend, the birthday boy's mom, had told me that the pirate boat rides were going to start promptly at 10:30.

We took off down the highway, and I silently cursed every red light. (Cursing non-silently has proven to have bad results around my parroting three year old.)

I got about ten minutes away, almost to the highway, and I realized I had forgotten the birthday card. Grrrr.

We got on the highway and my GPS died. I couldn't find the cord. Grrrrr. I started swigging my 8 oz Coke, wishing it was stronger.

I called B, to find out how to get there. He didn't answer. I called again. And again. And he texted me: "in a meeting." Grrrr. I started to panic.

I called the bakery (luckily I had jotted the number down) and they walked me through the directions.

We rushed into the bakery and I asked for L's favorite chocolate chunk cupcake. They were out of them. Grrrr. They did have yellow iced cupcakes, so I settled, paid, and ran.

I got about 25 minutes from the party and realized that it was 10:20. I started calling my friend and her husband. Neither one answered. I called and called and called. Grrrr.I felt my face getting hot and the tears welling up.

My friend's hubby finally answered and I told him my dilemma. He obviously could tell I had reached psycho pregnant woman status and handed the phone to his wife.

As soon as I heard her voice, I lost it. "I had to stop and get L's cupcake and I forgot A's card and my GPS died and I don't know where I am going and I am going to make the boat rides late and I am going to cryrightnowohmygoshI'mjustgoingtoturnaroundandgohome...wwwaaahhhh!"

"Gina. Chill out," she answered, sternly. (She knows how to handle me and that's why I love her.)

She gave me directions and met me when we pulled into the parking lot, pulled L out of his carseat, simultaneously putting on his pirate do-rag, handing him his treasure-collecting bag, and spraying him with sunscreen as she ran him to the boat.

I trudged behind, wiping my eyes and trying to take pictures.

Somehow, everything worked out a-okay. L got the pirate boat ride of his life:


He also got to hunt for treasure:


And although the yellow cupcake proved to be nowhere near as good as the chocolate chunk, we managed. After all, any cupcake is a good cupcake.



And any cupcake makes a bad day better. Take that, Murphy's Law.

L's birthday in photos

We ventured out to Incredible Pizza today...and my now-three-year-old couldn't have been more excited before we even left the garage!

Upon learning that he was a birthday boy, the staff allowed him to spin the "big wheel"....

...and my lucky little man won 50 free tickets with which to buy junk fabulous prizes!

He and Daddy became virtual racers....

...and real-life ones too! L cried through the entire ride, due to the unfairness of not being able to steer the wheel. Call me a bad mommy, but I got a giggle out of it!

He quickly recovered, thank goodness. He ate pizza, mac and cheese, oranges, ice cream, and cinnamon rolls. Who worries about nutrition on a birthday, right?

We shot lots and lots and lots of baskets....

...and L got some Skee-Ball lessons from Daddy.

No birthday would be complete without rockin' out to a little Guitar Hero!

and we had to throw in a little bowling for good measure.

We returned home exhausted and in need of a bath of hand sanitizer, but we all agreed it was an awesome day.

Now if his actual birthday party next weekend lives up to our day today, we'll really be lucky!

Happy Birthday, L! Thank you for helping me see everything as a miracle through your eyes. I love you more than you'll ever know.