We Came, We Sang, We Jumped Up!
Okay – now hail the week that seemed like a rising mountain. From Endymion in my front yard to a birthday party of five year olds in my back yard, this has been a week. I woke Saturday morning with a fever and a headache and Tin said, “Are you not going to come to my birthday party?” I looked at him through the slit I was making with the covers over my head and said, “Give me thirty minutes.”
Then it was up and at ’em – there was food to make, chairs to assemble, balloons to buy, drinks to ice down, and a party to put on to celebrate Tin turning the big 5. My parents always made a big deal of our birthdays, and I am following their tradition. My finances may have dictated a more meager gathering, but Tin takes after me in this regard – he wanted everyone to come – and while we couldn’t have everyone, we had some and then some.
And at the end of the day, Tin crawled into the fetal position in his bed and cried his eyes out, “I WANT MY FRIENDS. I LOVE MY FRIENDS” then fell sound asleep.
Yep, near hysteria is the end to a great birthday party.
My gluten free cake didn’t survive being dropped on the floor, but I made a yummy salted caramel frosting from my friend’s recipe. Yep, it wasn’t pretty, but it tasted good and there was absolutely nothing left at the end.
I was highly impressed by the home-made cards and especially this one that took a lot of time:
All in all, we passed us a good time, and now mommy is dead, done, stick a fork in me. This morning, I woke with laryngitis and a deep need to stay in bed for the next five years.
I do have this to say about that – backyard birthday parties rock.