The Birthday Party
Suffice it to say I would love to be posting nothing but pictures this morning, in a birthday party recap, but the pictures are all blurry. Yes, that sound you hear is me, banging my head on my desk after spending a near fortune on a new digital camera not six months ago, only to have a dozen blurry birthday photos to show for it. A manual will be consulted. A remedy will be found. Or Circuit City will be fixing the problem.
So, the party went well. Other than Eli nipping at LM's best friend (who is already afraid of dogs.) I think it was just all the excitement, and they made up as friends by the time the party was over, but still. The boys bowled (three games, the last one without the aid of gutter blockers. High score in the previous games? 98. High score with real gutters? 52.) They had pizza and laughter afterwards and then headed for home where they hunkered down in a fort they had built and I hid out with Eli in my room, only emerging to serve up cake and to quiet things down around midnight.
And the cake. After years of LM not liking whatever cake I labored over, I have long-since learned to give up all hope of being appreciated for my remarkable cake decorating abilities. Last year I ordered an ice cream cake from Cold Stone Creamery, but since it's ice cream layered around actual cake and then covered in (heaven forbid) icing, LM still didn't like it. This year, HE ordered it. It was a DQ cake (flavorless, cheap and remarkably bad decorating) and he loved it. Go figure.
In the end, my house was still intact, friendships were still well bonded, the boy is officially eleven and I am officially old. Or at least that's how I feel.
At what point did I become the grown up telling them to stop goofing off at the bowling alley, and to point your thumb forward in order to better 'steer' the ball? At what point did I become the one telling them that no, we were NOT going to play arcade games, they were simply a waste of money? At what point did I become the grown up telling my son that if he was only going to eat the crust of the pizza that was a huge waste and he needed to eat the whole piece or leave it alone? At what point did I become the one telling them to quiet things down around midnight because I could barely keep my own eyes open any longer? At what point did I become the adult who could barely work the portable DVD player in my bedroom while the kids watched a DVD and then played PS2 games in the living room? At what point, exactly, did I become a mother of an ELEVEN year old?!
yes, the crisis has begun.
Just wait until my birthday. When I fall over to the dark side in the "over 35" category.
Yeah, that's going to be fun.
So, the party went well. Other than Eli nipping at LM's best friend (who is already afraid of dogs.) I think it was just all the excitement, and they made up as friends by the time the party was over, but still. The boys bowled (three games, the last one without the aid of gutter blockers. High score in the previous games? 98. High score with real gutters? 52.) They had pizza and laughter afterwards and then headed for home where they hunkered down in a fort they had built and I hid out with Eli in my room, only emerging to serve up cake and to quiet things down around midnight.
And the cake. After years of LM not liking whatever cake I labored over, I have long-since learned to give up all hope of being appreciated for my remarkable cake decorating abilities. Last year I ordered an ice cream cake from Cold Stone Creamery, but since it's ice cream layered around actual cake and then covered in (heaven forbid) icing, LM still didn't like it. This year, HE ordered it. It was a DQ cake (flavorless, cheap and remarkably bad decorating) and he loved it. Go figure.
In the end, my house was still intact, friendships were still well bonded, the boy is officially eleven and I am officially old. Or at least that's how I feel.
At what point did I become the grown up telling them to stop goofing off at the bowling alley, and to point your thumb forward in order to better 'steer' the ball? At what point did I become the one telling them that no, we were NOT going to play arcade games, they were simply a waste of money? At what point did I become the grown up telling my son that if he was only going to eat the crust of the pizza that was a huge waste and he needed to eat the whole piece or leave it alone? At what point did I become the one telling them to quiet things down around midnight because I could barely keep my own eyes open any longer? At what point did I become the adult who could barely work the portable DVD player in my bedroom while the kids watched a DVD and then played PS2 games in the living room? At what point, exactly, did I become a mother of an ELEVEN year old?!
yes, the crisis has begun.
Just wait until my birthday. When I fall over to the dark side in the "over 35" category.
Yeah, that's going to be fun.
Comments
You are a wonderful mother...I am taking notes!
You are only as old as you think you are. So start thinking eleven and you'll be fine.
Party on!