Birthday Doughnut

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.

Completely understandable.

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.

Anyway.

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!

Happy Happy Birthday

Baby.

Only I’m afraid to say that you aren’t one anymore.

I’m sitting here crying my eyes out because of it.

And, it’s not just because the terrible part of the terrible twos is making an appearance (although hearing you say, “Mommy, you’s bad Mommy. You's a naughty mommy!” is quite enough to bring tears to my eyes).

It’s because you’re it for me.

No more babies on board this mother ship.

And the idea of that makes me sad.

Saying adios to the baby years is harder than I thought it would be.

I’m not 100% ready to leave this part of my life behind (I guess I shoulda thought about all of this BEFORE I burned down the baby-making factory, right?).

I’m excited (and anxious, and apprehensive, and scared stiff) about what’s to come as you (and your brothers) get bigger.

Maybe we can go on trips, or to movies, or to a freakin’ restaurant without having to make a mess of things while we shove the foot straight down our throats into our stomachs before you realize that you hate sitting in the highchair/eating their food/using a utensil/wearing clothing.

So there’s hope.

Right?

Someone please tell me I’m not always going to miss the baby phat wrists and the diaper thick badooka booty.

Please assure me that I will be happy when they finish elementary school, go to their first dance, have a girl over (hand selected by me, of course), or graduate high school (AHHHH!).

Please.

Before I lose my bloody-effing-closed-for-business-womb-connected mind.

Okay.

Deep breaths (backing slowly away from cliff now).

Instead I will focus on my sweet farm-animal-loving-booger-picking-perpetually-hungry-loud-talking/singing/laughing-just-turned-two toddler #3.

I love you, Boogie (one of my many nicknames for him, a list that also includes, Sugie, Huggabugga, and Turtletoes).

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Mommy (and the rest of the Dumb Family) loves you bunches.

Please enjoy a special Dumb Mom Muvee in celebration of #3 (featuring one of his current most favoritest songs, Fireflies by Owl City. It’s right up there on his list along with Boom Boom Pow, by the Black Eyed Peas, 1-2-3, by Britney, and Love Story, by Taylor Swift. Obviously I've had quite an influence on his music choices.)!

The Birth of a Hero

Was 8 years ago today.

My #1 is celebrating his 8th birthday today.

It was on this day that my life became meaningful and #1 will all be my most special boy as a result.

Not my favorite. I honestly don't have a favorite (not a consistent one anyway. It changes daily based on attitude, behavior, and time of day.).

But, my most special because he made me a mommy.

A boy mommy.

And, although it's taken me almost these entire 8 years to realize it, I know that's exactly what I'm meant to be.

A mom to boys.

Which is why I found myself at Medieval Times on Saturday rooting for the yellow knight with my guys this weekend in celebration of #1's big day.



Who knew I'd be so pumped about eating with my hands and battle chanting like a 16th Century wench? (Please note, it helped that Sir Yellow Knight was easy on the eyes and that he chose me, fair maid that I am, to receive on of his battle flowers.)

Who knew that I would be happy spending 20 minutes discussing the pros and cons of using a mace versus an axe in battle?

Apparently someone did. And for that I am thankful.

Please enjoy my Whrrl tribute to #1. He helped me pick the photos (even the unflattering, future blackmail material ones) and he said it looks "really great" (ah, my baby, so succinct!).

Powered by Whrrl

The Thirties

So, this Friday is a big day @ Casa de Dummies.

The fearless leader (that would be me, people), is celebrating a birthday.

I'm turning the big 3-1.

Some people think that turning 30 is monumental, I'd like to posit that it's actually the thirty first year when all hell breaks loose.

'Cause at 30, I felt like I was still a lot closer to the twenties. You know, 'cause I just left them.

Now, I'm officially in my thirties. I'm not just 30; I'm in my thirties. Totally different.

Anyway, in an effort to shift the focus away from my oldness and onto my awesomeness, I'm having a giveaway. Make that giveaways!

That's right, I'm giving you gifts on precisely the day that I should be expecting them for myself!

Hold your applause, people.

The issue is, what to give?

Ok. I've decided.

Or, it's been decided for me.

I will be hosting my first ever sponsored giveaway!

It is with a fantastic company called UPrinting.


They do all kinds of awesome stuff like business cards, postcards, and poster printing.

Online poster printing? Awesome, right?

You know how I love pictures, so how awesome is this?!

So, I am offering a free 16x20 poster print to 2 lucky people!

That means you can take one of your awesome pics like this...



Or, this...


And blow it up big for your wall.

Please refrain from blowing up pics like this, though because that is just mean (for the record, he's not picking his nose)!



To enter, you must do at least 1 of these things (double chances for doing both):

1. Leave a comment here telling me how you would use your free print. A link to your photo of choice would be perfect.

and/or

2. Write a post on your blog linking back to moi and Uprinting.com

I know you are wondering why we are celebrating my birthday on the 13th, when it's not until the 15th.

Well, little miss nosy pants, we are not actually celebrating the day I was born, we are instead celebrating my mom's birth experience, because she had the unfortunate circumstance to be in labor with me for more than 40 hours (good things come to those who wait, while screaming in pain).

That deserves a little celebration (give it up for Mimi).

Contest starts now (day her water broke), and ends Monday, 5/18/09 (day she took home the awesome gift that was me).

Good luck!

P.S. Shipping is included if you live in USA or Canada, all other countries have to pay for it (sorry, they made me say that part).

Photo of the Day

4 years old is off to a fantastic start!

Happy Birthday!

Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
You smell like a monkey,
and you act like one too!

You're four! I can't believe that it's only been four years since you came screaming into my life. It seems like forever ago that I was laid out on that operating table having you ripped unceremoniously from my abdomen.

I remember it like yesterday, when we brought you home in your meconium stained diaper, and marveled over how pink and wrinkled and squeaky new you were.

I think about how much you have grown, all of the things you have learned, and all of the things you have taught me, and it makes me sad in a happy, smiling but crying way. It makes me anxious and excited about the future, and wistful about the past. It makes me eager to know the you you're becoming, and miss the you you've been.

#1 was a very calm, subdued, obedient boy, and when you came my parenting skills were unprepared for the challenges you brought my way. I was overwhelmed by your personality, and the new dynamic you brought into the household was difficult for me to adjust to.

But everyday you have challenged me to not only be a better mom, but to be a better person. You have made things interesting (possibly biggest understatement of all time), thrilling (read dramatic), and fun (maybe not fun, but certainly funny). And for these things, I am grateful.

Now, let's talk a little bit about my expectations for year four.

I'd greatly appreciate if we can work together to make things a little more harmonious around here (ie no tantrums,meltdowns, or losing it). If we both try our hardest to make good choices (ie you listen to me) then everything will be cake.

Oh yeah, and Happy St. Patty's Day