cheers, beers, and 40 years

Yesterday was my husband's 40th birthday. We took the afternoon off and went to the horse races and won enough money to buy one-and-a-half overpriced cocktails. I tried to drum up some pithy post, but per usual as of late, I came up empty handed.

Dr. Crabby, my alter ego.

My only profound revelations were:

1) We'll never be too old to pre-party in the parking lot.
2) We'll never be so rich that $16 dollar drinks don't seem like a total rip off.
3) I already knew I married a giant man-child, and had long given up the ghost of him "growing up," (which, though it often drives me insane, is part of why I love him - he prevents me from evolving entirely into the 98 year old woman I am at heart). But I think I am ready to stop waiting for the day when I am knighted as a real-life grown-up, when I officially "arrive" at adulthood. I'm starting to think this is an elusive and mythical destination. I, personally, have never had less of a clue what in the Sam Hill I was doing in my life. But you know what? That's okay. I'm learning to roll with it.

"You're in pretty good shape for the shape that you're in."

Oh. This might be one of those "had to be there" things, but, after the races we went out to dinner. We were sitting across the table from our two cousins, and there was a mirror in the wall behind them. Being vain, I was sort of covertly checking myself out in the mirror and I was thinking, dang! My arms look good! Must be that 7 minute workout I did that one time! And when did I get so tan?!

Then I realized it was a window not a mirror.

"My hair looks awesome today! Oh, wait..."
My tanner fitter doppelganger definitely thought I was a big weirdo.  

Also, remember these?

Hopefully this candy is not actually from 1975.

Remember when they used to make candy in the shape of cigarettes? Can you imagine what internet moms would do if these were sold in candy shops today? The 21st century has zero chill ;)

DM's gifts from my sister and bro-in-law. Personally I would have gone with Werther's Originals instead of Almond Roca but still, solid showing, Sis. "Apparently God put in-laws on this Earth to make you feel special on your birthday." -DM

That picture actually reminds me. I don't know why I have this recurring theme of Depends in my life. But anyway. Before I had my first child, a dear cousin-in-law told me to get Depends and wear them to the hospital, and post-delivery as well. She just said it was a lot more comfortable and less messy and saved you from ruining your underwear. So, I followed her direction. And I showed up to the hospital and they got me into a gown and the nurse said, "Okay, let's get you out of your underwear so we can check you." I replied, "I'm wearing Depends." And she responded something along the lines of, "What in the actual fuck?" Apparently this was not standard practice.

The End :)

"I am convinced that most people do not grow up...We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias." - Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

"I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child. Because I was once a searching adolescent, given to moods and ecstasies, these are still part of me, and always will be... This does not mean that I ought to be trapped or enclosed in any of these ages...the delayed adolescent, the childish adult, but that they are in me to be drawn on; to forget is a form of suicide... Far too many people misunderstand what *putting away childish things* means, and think that forgetting what it is like to think and feel and touch and smell and taste and see and hear like a three-year-old or a thirteen-year-old or a twenty-three-year-old means being grownup. When I'm with these people I, like the kids, feel that if this is what it means to be a grown-up, then I don't ever want to be one. Instead of which, if I can retain a child's awareness and joy, and *be* fifty-one, then I will really learn what it means to be grownup." - Madeline L'Engle

"People never grow up. They just learn how to act in public." (Usually). - Bryan White

may the 4th be with you

the boy is four today. i was feeling a tad weepy about the whole thing yesterday but then last night he woke up literally eleven times between 2 and 5am because, gnats. (okay, in his defense, 3 of those 11 times were for a shrieking/tweeting smoke alarm because when the F else do smoke alarms go off except between 2 and 5am?! after that he was on HIGH ALERT for any and all miniscule winged insects.) anyway. i'm feeling a little better about things today because clearly he is still my giant baby. but, four, people. f-o-u-r. they just grow up so fast. ;)

we had a party for him on Saturday. i was a bit worried about how it would all turn out. the logistics were a little nuts because work and life are crazy for both DM and me, and on top of that, it was a joint birthday party, which brought in a whole host of new etiquette and party planning challenges. do you invite all the kids in the preschool class? i know that's the polite thing to do, but there are 24 of them, and some of them punch my kid in the face on a regular basis. then add in friends and family for BOTH kids? that's like, a guest list equal to the population of delaware, and our house isn't that big. even with our seriously pared down roster, we ended up with about thirty people, thirteen of which were kids. that's a lot of kids. it is a small miracle that our swimming pool survived free of feces.

then there was this weird "do you have to buy a present for the kid you've never met before in your life?" issue... where's ann landers when i need her?

also, we don't really know our co-hosts all that well. i mean, they're great. but we've really only hung out together twice and one of those times colby puked all over their house. and now we're planning a party together. so it was interesting. i had to walk a fine line between fulfilling my control freak psycho pinterest party planning dreams, and causing the other mom to call 911 and recommend me for an involuntary psychiatric hold. "you're going to BUY cupcakes? from SAFEWAY? with GREEN SPRINKLES????... um... okay... that sounds perfect!" quick! someone help me hack into safeway's customer database and change the order. green sprinkles, god forbid! ;)

it was actually really good for me. i should always have a co-host to counteract my crazy. of course it's all relative. when they came over in the morning the other mom started in with the "oh i'm such a bad mom, you did all this stuff and i just went to Costco!" then she told me that she's not crafty, but she's a cook, so whenever she hosts at her place she feels obligated to cook for three days prior. (and i believe her. the one time they had us over she made delectable black bean burgers from scratch, and hand-hewn quinoa guacamole with a mortar and pestle.) i assured her that cooking healthy and delicious comestibles is a much more useful skill than being able to craft light sabers from various food stuffs and items from the seasonal aisle at target.

anyway, i "only" stayed up until 2am getting things ready. and all-in-all our joint venture was a great success! except for that part at 1am when DM took a break between two television shows to critique my pretzel light sabers: "the light part needs to be longer."

poor DM. he wasn't able to make it to the party. he mysteriously disappeared, and was later found at the bottom of a shark-infested body of water, dipped in chocolate, with a pretzel light saber lodged in his aorta ;)

then my dear husband called me Lord Business all morning because, in my persistent irrationality, i wanted the decorations and party favors to remain intact at least until the guests arrived. silly me. what was i thinking? for those of you who aren't familiar with the Lego Movie, "Lord Business" is will farell's character and - spoiler alert - at the end you find out he's a dad who won't let his kid play with his legos:

The Man Upstairs: You know the rules, this isn't a toy!
Finn: Um... it kind of is.
The Man Upstairs: No, actually it's a highly sophisticated inter-locking brick system.
Finn: But we bought it at the toy store.
The Man Upstairs: We did, but the way I'm using it makes it an adult thing.
Finn: The box for this one said "Ages 8 to 14"!
The Man Upstairs: That's a suggestion. They have to put that on there.

i have to admit, i closely identify with will farell's character ;)

i also briefly questioned my choice of party favors when there was an all out pool-noodle light saber civil war, but thankfully there were no casualties.

mommy had way too much fun making pool noodle light sabers ;)

 

oh yeah, and, it was a pool party. but it was raining. like real, legitimate rain. in san diego. in august. turns out four-year-olds could not care less! as my grandma says, "you're not sugar, you won't melt."

as usual, grandma was right :)

co-host: should we have adult beverages?
me: was that a rhetorical question?

oh yeah. then. today. jack wanted to bring the avengers birthday card he got from his grandpa in for show-and-tell. but, being my son, he is very aware of the school's strict superhero censorship, and did not want to violate preschool protocol. his teacher's comment yesterday that captain America is "scary" only served to underline his concern. so he suggested that we bring in the birthday card, but cover up the scary parts. a clever compromise, i thought.

happy birthday to my boy. may the force be with you, always, except when aiming light-saber-y things at your little sister's dome.

mackenzie ninjago cheeseman, surprise ruiner extraordinaire

today is my dear husband's birthday. he is 39.

DM's family never made a huge deal about birthdays, so he doesn't care so much. but i do. growing up, birthdays were a big thing. my birthday was always my favorite "holiday." in my family, "birthday month" is a phrase uttered without sarcasm. over the past dozen years or so, i've painstakingly trained DM in these exacting standards, and i have to say, for the most part, he's really stepped up to the plate. though, i will admit, when the kids were born, each within a week of one of our birthdays, the lens was necessarily refocused. pesky little buggers, horning in on birthday month ;)

anyway, sadly, this year, i am not holding up my end of the bargain, at all. what with all of our summer plans, familial obligations, getting my ass handed to me at work, and preparing for jack's joint-preschool-starwars-birthday-bonanza this Saturday, DM's special day has sort of fallen through the cracks. add to that the fact that he is crazy busy with work, too, and won't even be home until the kids are asleep tonight. seeing as i haven't washed my hair or my pants in 3 days, and can't even think about baking a cake right now, i'm actually considering that a blessing. but, as far as birthdays go, this one's going to be a dud. 8pm last night: i'm so sad your birthday is going to be so uneventful. i'll get up early and make pancakes! 6:30am: crap. toaster waffles? 7:30am: DM is making me toaster waffles, and there's a sad little pile of presents. jackson jay: "i'm not going to tell you what it is, but it's a coffee mug." sorry, my love.

we are having date night and going to a concert tomorrow, but that's about all i have to offer him. in my mind, i was borrowing birthday credit from next year, with plans for the big 4-0 already in the works. for some reason, DM won't stop talking about north carolina, and specifically, the outer banks. i mean, he doesn't just want to visit, he at least somewhat seriously wants to move there. i'm not even sure he's ever been so i can't explain the reasoning behind this obsession, but, it is what it is. two different friends recently attended weddings in the outer banks, and this only served to stoke the fire. i'm not too keen on the concept of moving across the country to north carolina, but an oceanfront vacation? that i can do.

okayyy. i *guess* i'll go here. if i must.

i don't really like surprises, but DM does. or at least, i think he would, if i could ever maintain the requisite secrecy! this was going to be THE ONE. i researched lodging and flights. i told his parents and siblings about my plans. then i sent a group email to his large network of cousins. he is always lamenting the fact that he doesn't get to see them enough, so i figured we could make it a family affair.

i proceeded to email back and forth with several of the cousins, including a conversation on an unrelated topic that DM and I had recently discussed. i then FORWARDED this email conversation to DM. the subject line of the email was literally, like, "SHHHH! BIG HUMONGOUS TOP SECRET SURPRISE!" honestly. i am such an IDIOT. he probably wouldn't even have read back to the beginning of the thread if it weren't for the glaring breaking news subject line. grrrrr. i am still so mad at myself! the top secret surprise that lasted all of 19 hours. sadly, that may actually be my personal best.

oh well. SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! this time next year, may we be taking photos of our feet :)

this was actually from my birthday last year. DM really outdid himself. probably because he was going to spend my birthday weekend at his fantasy baseball draft in vegas. whatever. i will happily feast on the spoils of guilt :)

love is blind. but grandma isn't.

my grandma rocked.

she was a teacher. a hawaiian beach babe. a navy wife. she raised up four children against a landscape that changed every two years, kept an immaculate house, had dinner on the table every night, AND EVEN HEATED UP THE PLATES BEFORE SERVING IT. she sewed my aunts' prom dresses and sewed magical toys and busy books and crafted creative games that kept me busy for ages. she could play candyland and old maid for hours on end. she sang silly songs. she taught me to swim. she helped me catch bugs and dig up worms. we built forts, had picnics, swam in the pool, waded in the river, swung for endless afternoons, took walks, explored, and played and played and played.

my grandma practically raised me when i was little, while my parents worked and my mom finished school. i remember the feeling of her house in the mornings, crisp and cool with misty rays of sunshine spilling between the leaves and dappling the porch with light. blue jays squawking. humming birds sipping from the feeder. pancakes or waffles on the table - with blueberry syrup - my favorite. if my grandfather wasn't around, i was allowed to watch sesame street and mr. rogers and sometimes even reading rainbow. she was my mentor and my friend. she never made me feel as though i were an inconvenience or a chore. now that i have small children of my own, i appreciate that ten times more.

recently i was talking with my aunt about potty training the kids, lamenting that my mom wasn't around to trade war stories. i was joking that when my i asked my dad he said, huh, i don't really remember doing that with you girls, and i thought in my head at the time, well that's probably because mom did it! then my aunt mentioned that she had sent my cousin to grandma's for a week and my cousin came back totally potty trained. when my aunt asked how, grandma replied, "she was just ready." it shall forever remain a mystery. i realized that there is a 79% chance that grandma did the same for me! here i was giving my dad a hard time for not remembering/participating, while it's highly unlikely my mom did either!

this got me thinking about what a special person my grandma was. and how special she made everyone around her feel, in turn. she was classy. she was funny. she was selfless. she was smart and crafty and creative and a great cook, though she never, ever gave herself credit. ("i'm such a dum-dum." "maybe i'd look better if i just put a bag over my head." her standard refrain when serving dinner was "wellllll, this is going to be pretty terrible. i'm not even sure it's edible.") but other than her self deprecating shtick about how bad her cooking was and how awful her hair looked, etc., she never complained. in her later years, however, she didn't shy away from "telling it like it is."

when i came back home after my freshman year of college, i knew i had gained the freshman 15 (or, let's be honest, freshman 50). but my friends loved me, and we all got fat simultaneously, so i had convinced myself that it wasn't that bad. my girlfriends and i actually had this conversation in a dressing room at brass plum at nordstrom: "what is wrong with these pants? why are they so small?" "i know! they must have changed their sizes. there's no way i could go from a 7 to 13." "seriously. maybe it's because they're juniors sizes? whatever. that's dumb. these are broken. let's go somewhere else." for nine months i'd heard: "gained weight? no, of course not! you look great! don't worry about it!" but when i toted my tubby self back to grandma's house, i wasn't three feet in the door before she said, "you got fat." okayyyyyy. love is blind. but grandma isn't. ;) (i almost said "but grandma ain't," but then i had flashes of this book of my grandma's that we read almost daily, and i thought better of it. if i remember correctly, bad things happen to people who say "ain't.")

grandma was one of my most favorite people in the world. so much so that i named my daughter after her, though for this, grandma is probably rolling in her grave. she was not a huge fan of her name. sorry, grams ;) since i started ruminating on this lovely lady, i came up with a list of life lessons i learned over the years. the list is not exhaustive - i'm sure i could add to it every day. but it's a start.

everything i need to know, i learned from my grandma

be sweet (especially to your sister, because one day, she may be all you have.)
smile. ("smile and the world smiles with you, frown and you frown alone.")
stand up straight "so you don't turn into a shrunken hunchback."
penmanship and typing skills are important, despite all this "newfangled technology."
bill clinton is a scallywag.
read books.
write letters.
send thank you notes.
mind your manners.
learn the rules of grammar, and employ them.
don't leave the house "looking like a bum."
empire waists "make you look a little pregnant."
only mobsters and hooligans wear rings on their pinky fingers.
don't be afraid to get dirty, or play with bugs.
a little bit of chocolate isn't going to spoil your dinner.
chew your food ten times.
the only way to eat angel food cake is with powdered sugar icing, and sprinkles.
a chocolate chip cookie can solve most of the world's problems.
why does corn syrup get such a bad rap? a spoonful of caro's cures any and all stomach ailments!
a little snack before bed can help you sleep.
never pass up a lucky penny.
a tin of old buttons provides children with almost as much entertainment as one of those "i-thingies."
"outen the lights."
wear sunscreen "so you don't end up looking like one of those rotten apple dolls." also? skin cancer.
always carry kleenex (tucked conveniently up your sleeve!)
you're never too old for sparkly nail polish.
grams spent too much time curling her hair, and i spent/spend too much time straightening mine. if we could just be happy with what we have, we'd save a lot of time and energy!
set low expectation for your culinary skills and people will be happily surprised.
sewing and knitting are lost arts.
let your husband think he's the boss.
but know that when your family needs someone to lean on, it will be you.
you catch more flies with honey, but sometimes, you just gotta swat 'em. (grandma was pretty unassuming, and mostly bit her tongue, but wooo-eee, if she felt like something was really worth standing up for, watch out! her generally agreeable and conciliatory nature gave it that much more impact. if you pissed grandma off, you really did something wrong.)
animals make the best friends.
(human) friendships work better when you take the expectations and competition out of it. 
try to see the best in people.
make friends at jury duty and the DMV, it helps pass the time.
take trips to paradise with your girlfriends when you're an octogenarian, it'll keep you young.
plant a garden. fruit and veggies taste better, flowers smell sweeter, when you grow them yourself.
veggies also taste better when dipped in mayonnaise. 
don't play any of that "hip hop bee bop" music at your wedding.
steer clear of those "gol-darn hippies" in the bay area.
if you don't have anything nice to say, mutter it under your breath.
and the corollary - the older you get, the less you have to bite your tongue.
remember the best family stories... and just make up the parts you forget ;)

today would have been my grandma's 93rd birthday. (she shared her birthday with some of my favorites, including my stepdad, a good college friend, and little miss MJ. if you're born on may 29th, you're good people in my book ;)) she always said she wanted to be a bird, soaring through the ocean air, and that's how i think of her now. 

"my soul is in the sky." - william shakespeare, a midsummer night's dream

go charlotte, it's yo berfday

last weekend we had a "destination birthday party" for colby jean in beautiful and exotic sacramento, the capitol and crown jewel of the great state of california. i mean, is any further explanation required? ;) (we originally planned to have the party at my dad's house up north because my grandfather was ill and we wanted to see as much of him as possible while he was still around, but then he joined that great naked hot tub party in the sky. party planning was already well in the works though so we just rolled with it.)

whenever we travel with the kids, i expect a blog post is in the making. but this past weekend was shockingly uneventful. the kids traveled like champs, and the birthday party was a big hit.

first of all, hosting a party at someone else's house? genius. why have i never thought of this before?! normally before a party i'm up all night cleaning like that cracked out grandma from Something about Mary, decorating and doing ridiculous crafty shit by hand, making themed cupcakes and oreo pops, and cutting fruit and vegetables into choke-proof quarter-inch cubes. but not this time. i'm not going to ruffle any tail-feathers by trying to crazy-clean my future step-mother's home, so that was out. food? i outsourced everything. pizza delivered for lunch. delicious desserts from a local bakery. store-bought snacks and fruit plates. decorations? i ordered every pink giraffe-themed thing i could find on etsy and shipped it to my pop's house. bought some garlands and tissue poofs. wham bam thank you baby jesus, etsy, and Martha Stewart! i can't even get over how much less work it was?!

one funny thing about my dad's house though. he and his significant other and her daughter are basically vegan. there was no milk. my dad had to go on a scavenger hunt to find sugar for my coffee. and perhaps most importantly, no cheese, which to me is a glaring sign that you have lost the will to live. my kids were also totally thrown by the lack of ranch dressing. almond milk on their cereal? whatevs. no ranch in which to dip all of the things? *error. error. cannot. compute.* ;) i was commiserating with my sister about the status of our dairy addictions at dad's house and she was like, "yeah, every time i'm there i'm starving. last time i went i stocked up on airplane peanuts and silently scarfed them in my bed at night." that killed me. still laughing.

anyway. the birthday was a success. colby had the best time EVER. she was entertained by a single helium balloon for four hours, and while it took her about a month to get through her christmas presents, she ripped through her birthday swag in ten minutes flat. it was also really great to see family and friends that we don't often have the chance to see. good times were had by all.

heading home on sunday was relatively painless. my little frequent flyers handled it like pros. all was well until we lost colby's "spawkly do-wah the explo-wah" backpack at the airport. i look across the way to see a small swarm of TSA agents going through its contents in confusion. minky blankie? hot pink iPad and headphones? neon glitter sweatshirt? CUTEST BOMB EVER!!!

then we let the kids run around at the edge of the food court for a little bit to get their ya-yas out before the flight. they were playing a more or less quiet game of pretend along a big glass wall of windows overlooking the runway when Jack yells "LOOKOUT EVEYBODY!!! AN ENOWMOUS SOUFWEST AIOWPWANE JUST CWASHED ON DA WUNWAY!!!" colby: "NORMOUS CWASH!!!" omg. apparently now is the time to have the talk about yelling fire in a crowded theater. i'll let daddy handle that since he's the constitutional lawyer and all ;)

also? forget about the mile high club. that shit's for pansies. the real award goes to anyone who has taken a preschooler to poop in an airplane bathroom.

but the critters were angels and there were no meltdowns and no pissy passengers and life was good. at least until the next day ;)

Giraffe Gift Tags from Katie's Scrap N Supplies on Etsy
Popcorn Boxes, Paper Straws and Muffin Cups from Party Garden on Etsy
Princess Cake and Cake Pops from Ettore's European Bakery in Sacramento, California (SO GOOD)
Cake Bunting from Simply Scissors on Etsy
Giraffe Cake Topper from Party Pop Pop on Etsy
Tissue Paper Poofs and Garlands by Martha Stewart
Amazing Tassle Garland that I want in every room of my house by Studio Mucci on Etsy
Freaking Adorable "Two" Giraffe Balloon Tee from Lil Threadz on Etsy
Cold Bubbly, from someone who knows what Mama Likey ;)

mayonnaise cupcakes

Want to know an awesome, relaxing way to wind down after a stressful day of traveling with Tasmanian devil babies??? Why, making and decorating baseball cupcakes for The Boy's preschool class, naturally!

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 more stressful 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.

source: my freaking kitchen at 1am.

source: http://adoreprep.com/2013/03/07/adventure/