Okay... So the logic runs like this...
Squish's birthday is next week, right? And we're going to have a small family party next week, and go eat at Wongs and have ice cream cake (note to self: must not forget ice cream cake) and then take Squish to a King's game, where she'll see her name on the board.
But she wanted to go to Build-a-Bear with her sister, and since it's easier to have a party for little kids on break, we thought we'd have a party at Build-a-Bear with a couple of kids--not huge, mind you, just a few, but, well, where to meet up?
The house was out of the question. There was not enough time to clean the house. Twice. In the same week.
So, the itinerary went like this: Meet at the park for quick meal of finger sandwiches ("Finger sandwiches, mom? I LOVE finger sandwiches!" I don't know why, but cut a PB&J into tiny pieces, and you're a god. Free parenting tip. From me. Finger sandwiches) Goldfish crackers and juice boxes, then caravan to the Build-a-Bear place which was about 1/2 an hour away, then, after they had built their bears, take them to ice cream (it turned out to be frozen yogurt since the Ben & Jerry's I'd been thinking about had actually MOVED. Thank Goddess for fro-yo, that's all I'm saying.)
And that, folks, was birthday party one.
So, uhm, some of you might question the wisdom of planning TWO birthday parties on either side of Easter.
*piffle* I say! *PIFFLE!* Why SHOULDN'T I execute two birthdays and an Easter Bunny while I'm trying to make a gazunga deadlines! (Speaking of which, I've moved one back a little, thank Bob, but still. Not catching up.) With kids in the house who need attention and amusement, and for me to be caught up on every pop culture reference that they have, in their leisure time, been able to absorb.
Anyway-- so, yeah. It's been a full an amazing break--for the kids-- and a sort of juggling act for mom. (What's for dinner tonight, Mom? No, seriously. We're starving. What's for dinner?)
But in the meantime, we had a lovely time in the park and some very nice kids got some, well, very varied stuffed animals. (Our names ranged from Darth Plush to Sir Mints-a-lot to Soft to Spike to Thorin to Cookie. Seriously-- that's an eclectic bunch of bears from an eclectic bunch of kids, right?) The only thing was missing was the little dog, but Big T said that he was happy to have Jonnies company.
So, it was a good day, and a good week, and seriously, Mate and I are going to need a day to nap when school starts and Chicken goes home.
Oh-- and this is just sort of a random kid story. Squish got one of those Rapunzel dolls last year for Christmas, the ones that are three feet tall? Anyway, she was fun for a while, but, you know, eventually the fun wore off, and the creepy started to sink in. So Squish was ready to put her in the garage.
I had her put the doll in the hall, and it was one of those mom things: Guys, could you put this in the garage?
And they completely ignored me and kept putting it back in her room.
Well, this morning, Squish had a mom moment. She LITERALLY had a nuclear meltdown during which she turned into me right before our very eyes.
"Could you move my doll? Could you please move my doll? Because I keep putting her in the hall," gesture, "and she's SUPPOSED to end up in the garage," chin wobble, "but she keeps ending up back in my ROOOOOOOOMMM!!!" WAIL. Her eyes teared up and everything, and her sister and I just watched her, trying not to laugh.
"God, Mom," said Chicken. "That was the best impression of you losing it that I've ever seen."
So, well, good. There we go. Mini-me, it's a fact!
And wait-- here we go: Morning turkeys. You can hear their wing feathers dragging on the pavement when they're all ruffled up like this.