Now in my defense, last weekend had too much going on to throw a party. Several of the key players were sick, The Firefighter was tied up in class, and I didn't want to expose the newly recovered Bun to lots of new germs. Nor am I a real believer in massive parties for small children.
At the last minute, I felt a little bit weird not acknowledging her actual day of birth, at all. So, I ran out (right before dinner - literally) bought a cookie cake and sprinkles, as well as a balloon. Rushed home, and told Miss Chatterbox, "Happy Birthday! Want to decorate a giant cookie?"
Miss Chatterbox cocks her head to the side as she looks at me with a puzzled expression on her face.
"My birtday, Saturday, Mommy. It no Saturday."
"Yes, baby, It's Saturday, right now! Your birthday is today."
"NOOOOOOOOOO! It not. My birtday Saturday. I wait for Saturday."
"You want your birthday cookie?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! IT NOT MY BIRTDAY!" Then she ran off to her room and slammed he door.
Sidenote: I thought door slamming didn't start until the teen years. Boy howdy, was I wrong. If she slams that door one more time, *grumble grumble* I swear, I'm gonna take it off the hinge! Having a door is a privilege, damn it! Eek! I sound like my mother!!
It was at that moment I realised that she had specific expectations for her birthday. Serious expectations. It turns out that she wants a Christmas like spectacle that starts in the morning and ends when she goes to sleep.
For some reason, I am just not feeling excited about this prospect, like I was Christmas. Not that I don't want to make it special for her, I do. It just feels kinda like work. And work is not fun. I'm hoping I just have a wicked case of the Mondays, even though it's, umm, Friday. Or maybe I'm getting Grinchy in my old age. I sure hope not. Green fur does nothing for my complexion.
|Anyone think I can pull something like this off?|
This weekend we will try again. Wish me luck!
PS - Big news post coming soon!