Birthday Boy

Yesterday was… such a long day.  It was also a very good day.  Our little (giant!) four-year-old was very happy.

 

When he woke up at 6:20 am and crawled into bed with me, I said, “Happy birthday, Charles!” and he said, “Yeah?  It’s my birthday now?  I’m four now?”  After a shower, he woke Tony up and said, “Daddy!  It’s my birthday!  I’m four now!” as if Tony didn’t know.  Charles was so excited that he wanted to go to school a full hour before we usually leave the house.  Normally, it’s like pulling teeth to get that kid to get dressed, finish his breakfast, brush his teeth, and basically get his shit together to get out the door by the appointed time, but not yesterday.  No, yesterday, he had the promise of being the king of the classroom, crown and everything:

 

Piñata!

 

Cupcakes!

 

Horns!

 

We had a party at home, too.  I made S’mores Treats (like Rice Krispies treats but with Golden Grahams and a chocolate drizzle) and we had pizza and popcorn, plenty of wine for the adults.

 

 

It was exhausting.  Ten children running around, chaos and noise and craziness.  I thought they would all settle down when I put the movie (The Incredibles, a birthday gift from me and Tony) on, but that only settled some of them.  One of my neighbors came over with all 5 of the neighbor kids and they all, along with Charles and Jamie, immediately started shrieking, tearing through the house, and getting every toy out of the toy box.  She looked at me with horror in her eyes and asked, “are they always like this when they come over?”  Yes.  Yes, they are.  I usually grab a book and hide out of the way, willing to step in and rescue Jamie if need be.  Or, I herd them outside where they can play cars and trucks with the dog (the dog loves cars and trucks… or maybe just kids playing outside).  But it’s always utter madness with kids over.  And I think that’s probably because we’re the cool parents.  There’s next to nothing in my house that kids can break, and I don’t believe that children should have to play quietly for no reason.  Nor should they not run.  In fact, go, exhaust yourselves.  All the better for me.

 

I didn’t take one photo of the party.  Not one.  By the time everyone left and Charles was fighting bedtime, even though it was super late, I knew I wouldn’t even get much reading done (I’m reading a bodice-ripper Regency Romance right now and I’m not afraid to admit it.  Good writing, engrossing, and I don’t have to think to much.  And also, Tony is reaping some benefits – wink, wink) because I was so exhausted.  I fell into bed not long after we got Charles settled down.  He is usually awake in bed reading for an hour or two after we put him in bed, but he also fell fast asleep within minutes.  A good party really wears a person out.

 

Charles was blessed with some wonderful gifts.  If you came to the party last night, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  My little boy was so happy to play with his new toys this morning.  Lightning McQueen and Buzz Car got to be rescued by the Coast Guard Helicopter and then chase bad guys with Spiderman.  This morning, he didn’t want to leave for school because he knew he’d have to leave his toys behind.

 

Another year.  Another event to acknowledge the passing of time, the growing of my baby.  The funniest part was, while I was snuggling him into bed and off to dreamland, I glanced at the clock and realized that four years previously, he wasn’t even born yet.  Maybe next year he’ll manage to stay up until his exact birth minute of 9:46 pm, but I kind of hope not.  I hope he’s happily worn out by then, at least for a few more years.