That’s what we’re calling it.
Because, embarrassingly, last night, on the day of my sweet little pickle’s second birthday we (and by me, of course mean I, because, like Hubby likes to tell me, there’s not an I or a U in Mommy; a phrase he likes to bring out to play when he’s attempting to shirk the blame for things that are entirely or at least in part his fault) realized that we were wholly unprepared to celebrate it.
Not because we didn’t know it was coming.
And, certainly not because we didn’t care.
But, because seriously, this kid has already celebrated his birthday once (we had a family party) and he’s slated to celebrate it again (he’s having a “friends” party on Thursday) and I just can’t understand how my only-barely-just-turned-two year old son has squeezed no less than 3 birthday celebrations outta me.
I mean, I celebrate my birthday for a full week, but that’s different.
I’m paying for and organizing mine.
Okay, so maybe I’m not actually doing the paying part (that’s where Hubby comes in handy), but I’m definitely in charge of all levels of birthday party organization for every member of this household, myself included.
So, it’s only fair that I get to celebrate my day of birth with multiple organized events to which friends and family of different levels of association are invited.
But, for the technically-only-been-two-for-a-few-short-hours member of the family, it seems a bit excessive, right?
I know it’s my fault, but I’ve not figured out a good way to have only one party that will adequately accommodate the schedules and the social needs of all of our different levels of friends.
So…the two parties.
But, the third party, the one that spontaneously occurred on his actual birth date is the one I wasn’t anticipating.
After dinner when he announced that he was, “WEADY FOR DA CAKE AN DA ICE KEAM NOW!” all I could do was look at Dumb Dad and blink.
To which he responded, “Well, Mommy. Where’s the boy’s cake?”
Thanks for that, Hubby.
But, for throwing me so far under the bus I’ve still not figured out how to crawl out, he got to be the one to drive to Dunkin’ Donuts and get a “super-special-one-of-a-kind-ohmygoodnesscanyoubelieveit-birthday-surprise” for #3.
Luckily, doughnuts just so happen to be one of his top five most favoritest things on the planet, so it worked out perfectly.
He was so overjoyed about the presence of birthday doughnuts that he sang “Happy Birthday” to himself, twice, and he didn’t even seem to notice that no one bothered to give him a birthday gift.
Another failure that is so obviously my fault.
You know, since only I can select, purchase, wrap, and present a quality birthday gift for an I-can’t-believe-he’s-already two year old boy.
I love being needed, but these people (and by people I mean Dumb Dad) are taking it too far!
Next year I will be prepared.
Birthday cake and a gift.
And. I might even throw in a scoop or two of “ICE KEAM”. How ‘bout that?!
So much for Twenty-Ten being the year of the awesome.
Looks like I’m off to a bit of a rough start.
Thanks for all of the sweet birthday wishes for my little man and me yesterday; you guys are so sweet.
And. Don’t forget to enter my H&R Block At Home Giveaway here. It ends Friday!