Let me back track. We were in the Sea Ranch this weekend for a big ole family reunion with DM's family. It took us about 12 hours of travel to get there which sucked donkey balls but once we arrived it was really, really great. So nice to touch base with his fun, loving (and fun-loving!) family, and eat, and drink, and eat, and drink, and eat ;) And best of all, to watch all the little critter cousins play together. It's so fun to partake in that big family atmosphere without personally inflicting further trauma upon my vagina ;)
Anyway, as indicated in my last quickie post, I had the brilliant idea of throwing a little birthday shindig for The Boy during said reunion. What's morestressful fun than throwing a three year old birthday party? Throwing a three year old birthday party for 60 of your husband's relatives 600 miles away from home! But honestly, it was really relatively painless (3am Oreo pops notwithstanding). The cousins were super helpful and amazing and it was much easier (on me) than if I'd thrown it at home. All I really had to worry about were cupcakes and goodie bags, and, that being the case, I went a wee bit overboard on both counts. I definitely let a little (or maybe more than a little) of my crazy show, and they hardly even judged me at all. (E.g., I ordered "I Spy" bags and crayon rolls and travel tic-tac-toe games all in coordinated baseball fabric that matched baby sister's party dress. "Did you make those?!" "Oh God no! This party was sponsored by Etsy." ;))
Sadly, just as we started to settle in, it was time to hit the road again. Luckily, the trip home was quite a bit less painful than the one there (9 hours of travel instead of 12, and 38% less psychosis). I give J an A-. For Colby Jean, I'll have to divide her grades between the car ride and the plane ride. Car ride she gets a solid A (mostly because she slept for half of it). Plane ride she gets a C+. And that generosity is only because of the curls. Oh those curls. They friggin' slay me.
Any way you cut it, traveling with children sucks the life out of you faster than that machine in The Princess Bride. The last thing I wanted to do upon my return was to make 24 cupcakes and decorate them per the pervasive baseball theme. Correction. The LAST thing I wanted to do was make a batch of batter that was supposed to yield 24 cupcakes but really only made 19 so then I had to make a second batch of cupcakes except I only had two eggs left and the recipe called for three. But the show must go on! Did you know, according to The Google, you can substitute 3 tablespoons of mayo for an egg in cake batter? Allegedly. Ha! We shall see. Anyway, they look like cupcakes. I have a bunch of 3 year old guinea pigs taste-testing them today. I'll let you know how that goes. But I'm guessing that their palettes, carefully calibrated to chicken nuggets, goldfish, fruit snacks, and "apple" "juice," won't even know the difference :)
So, yeah. Mayonnaise cupcakes. Learn somethin' new every day. I also learned that, due to the mild palsy brought on by an acute case of motherhood, I suck at drawing frosting/candy lines meant to approximate baseball stitching. This causes me a keen sense of defeat, as it's a gut punch to my personal identity as a slightly-more-than-mediocre crafty martha mo-fo. But. Seeing as Big J can barely draw a "kirkle," I don't think he's really in a position to judge ;)
Anyway. Sap alert. Happy happy happy 3rd birthday to my BEST boy. You've expanded my heart, softened my soul, brightened my life, and taught me many, many lessons in your three years on this planet. (The longest and shortest three years of my life, by the way.) You've taught me that a full night's sleep, coherent thoughts, and complete sentences are not in fact necessary for survival. That giant eyelashes, dimples, and a devilish grin can dig you out of almost any hole you've gotten yourself into. That all you need to know about negotiation you can learn from children. That mastering (or rather, attempting to master) manipulation of a toddler is immensely useful in interactions with grown men. That sometimes sharing is overrated. That you have to look out for your little sister but that doesn't mean you don't sometimes need to accidentally-on-purpose push her off her chair (actually I already knew that one ;)) That time can stretch and shrink like a rubber band, and that every moment is precious (though admittedly, some more precious than others). That there's almost always time for "five more minutes" of books, bikes, or baseball. And that even though Daddy is currently the clear favorite, mamas and their boys have a bond like no other. To my sweet, handsome, hilarious, and slightly schizo love - I hope all of your biggest, best birthday wishes come true - up to and including the baseball player-pizza-school bus and baseball field. And, if Mama may be so presumptuous as to add a birthday wish of her own: may the cupcake-induced lunacy and attendant low blood sugar meltdown happen on Miss Laney's watch. Amen.
Anyway, as indicated in my last quickie post, I had the brilliant idea of throwing a little birthday shindig for The Boy during said reunion. What's more
Sadly, just as we started to settle in, it was time to hit the road again. Luckily, the trip home was quite a bit less painful than the one there (9 hours of travel instead of 12, and 38% less psychosis). I give J an A-. For Colby Jean, I'll have to divide her grades between the car ride and the plane ride. Car ride she gets a solid A (mostly because she slept for half of it). Plane ride she gets a C+. And that generosity is only because of the curls. Oh those curls. They friggin' slay me.
Any way you cut it, traveling with children sucks the life out of you faster than that machine in The Princess Bride. The last thing I wanted to do upon my return was to make 24 cupcakes and decorate them per the pervasive baseball theme. Correction. The LAST thing I wanted to do was make a batch of batter that was supposed to yield 24 cupcakes but really only made 19 so then I had to make a second batch of cupcakes except I only had two eggs left and the recipe called for three. But the show must go on! Did you know, according to The Google, you can substitute 3 tablespoons of mayo for an egg in cake batter? Allegedly. Ha! We shall see. Anyway, they look like cupcakes. I have a bunch of 3 year old guinea pigs taste-testing them today. I'll let you know how that goes. But I'm guessing that their palettes, carefully calibrated to chicken nuggets, goldfish, fruit snacks, and "apple" "juice," won't even know the difference :)
So, yeah. Mayonnaise cupcakes. Learn somethin' new every day. I also learned that, due to the mild palsy brought on by an acute case of motherhood, I suck at drawing frosting/candy lines meant to approximate baseball stitching. This causes me a keen sense of defeat, as it's a gut punch to my personal identity as a slightly-more-than-mediocre crafty martha mo-fo. But. Seeing as Big J can barely draw a "kirkle," I don't think he's really in a position to judge ;)
Anyway. Sap alert. Happy happy happy 3rd birthday to my BEST boy. You've expanded my heart, softened my soul, brightened my life, and taught me many, many lessons in your three years on this planet. (The longest and shortest three years of my life, by the way.) You've taught me that a full night's sleep, coherent thoughts, and complete sentences are not in fact necessary for survival. That giant eyelashes, dimples, and a devilish grin can dig you out of almost any hole you've gotten yourself into. That all you need to know about negotiation you can learn from children. That mastering (or rather, attempting to master) manipulation of a toddler is immensely useful in interactions with grown men. That sometimes sharing is overrated. That you have to look out for your little sister but that doesn't mean you don't sometimes need to accidentally-on-purpose push her off her chair (actually I already knew that one ;)) That time can stretch and shrink like a rubber band, and that every moment is precious (though admittedly, some more precious than others). That there's almost always time for "five more minutes" of books, bikes, or baseball. And that even though Daddy is currently the clear favorite, mamas and their boys have a bond like no other. To my sweet, handsome, hilarious, and slightly schizo love - I hope all of your biggest, best birthday wishes come true - up to and including the baseball player-pizza-school bus and baseball field. And, if Mama may be so presumptuous as to add a birthday wish of her own: may the cupcake-induced lunacy and attendant low blood sugar meltdown happen on Miss Laney's watch. Amen.
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| source: my freaking kitchen at 1am. |
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| source: http://adoreprep.com/2013/03/07/adventure/ |
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