The Time Of My Life

We celebrated my husband’s birthday over the weekend. It was a fantastic evening. The house was overflowing with people, kids were running around everywhere, the food was delicious, the conversation was upbeat and fun, and an overall sense of excitement filled the air. It was one of those nights thoroughly enjoyed by all.

My husband and I are experiencing a stage of life where our friends are almost all couple friends, meaning he and I are friends with both spouses of the other couple. For many years I had my group of girlfriends and he had his group of guy friends. On occasion we would get together with the other person’s friends, but for the most part our outings were separate. They were mainly Gils Night and Guys Night.

Over the course of the years a string of occurrences have taken place which have resulted in us losing contact with most of our separate groupings of friends and instead forming friendships with other couples. This is not a bad thing, in fact, it’s been a very natural progression as our life continues to change and evolve. Right now is actually a great time in our lives because most of our activities involve either our entire family or my husband and I together. Our couple friends have children as well so family activities are frequent. We host or attend pool parties, BBQs, birthday parties, sporting events, park days, game nights and the like on a regular basis. These gatherings are chaotic and crowded to be sure but they are also some treasured memory makers.

Engaging in such activities with my husband and children as well as with friends makes them all extra special. This means that a typical soccer game for my sons on Saturday has now also become a morning spent with friends, complete with conversation, playful banter and fun times.

I am blessed to count my parents and siblings in this group as well. All my siblings are married and all have kids, excepting one. My family is a consistent part of my life and we routinely all gather together.

Every phase of my life has been an important one. Every stage has held meaning and has prepared me for the one to follow. I am overjoyed as I embrace this particular time in my life, the young family stage. I feel so lucky to be where I am, to know such wonderful people, to engage with other families, to watch my kids grow and form friendships, to laugh with and be with my husband and our friends together, to share in life so fully with my entire family. It is such a treat.

Looking around the room the other night at our house full of people, all there to celebrate my husband’s life, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness. I am blessed with an amazing family and superb friends. This is a good phase in life, one of my favorites. May it continue for years to come. 

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The Keeper of my Children..... And Everybody Else's.....

As I write these words all I can hear are shrieks of laughter behind me, shrieks so loud they entirely drown out any other sounds competing to be heard in the vicinity. But they are indeed shrieks of laughter. I’ll take them. Even if it means barely being able to concentrate as I write.

My children and a neighborhood friend are the sources of these shrieks. They are engaged in some sort of game, I think this one might involve tickling. Today is a holiday and my children have been playing like today is the last day of play forever since about noon. It is now 7pm. We just finished dinner, our neighbor friend stayed to join us. But besides this break for dinner they have been going at it full-steam-ahead for nearly seven straight hours.

We are blessed to live in a neighborhood full of children close in age to my own. My boys think a day without play is akin to pure torture. Unless we have soccer practice they can usually squeeze in an hour or two with their friends most week days, in between homework and dinner (we always eat together as a family), on the weekends it’s usually much longer. I am with them for a great majority of this time. For starters my 20 month old daughter longs to be a part of the group. She (obviously) needs constant parental supervision so I need to be wherever she is. We have fabulous weather this time of year so the kids are outside 90% of the time, my daughter included, and by default, myself included. My daughter, bless her, tries her best to keep up with the “big” kids (they range in age from 4 to 7). She’s usually at least 20 paces behind. By the time she finally reaches the group they’re off to the next activity. No problem, she just follows along, and yes, so do I.

My boys are allowed to be semi-independent on occasion. The moments where it is impossible for me to be with them I give them a walkie-talkie to use. They are well trained in answering me when I call and informing me of their location every single time they move. It’s not the same as me being there in person, but it’s much better than permitting them to roam free (as a few of the other kids their age do). And by our neighborhood, I mean one street. We live on the back end of the development so there are zero through streets. Ours is the last stop, it’s a pretty safe area with very low traffic and all the kids know not to leave our street. Most of them comply.

Back to the shrieks. These kids operate under one volume: loud. This is normal for kids playing together, but there is a difference between happy shrieks and unhappy shrieks. Happy shrieks, though loud and somewhat interfering, I can handle, in fact I enjoy them. Unhappy shrieks on the other hand are unbearable. Fighting, whining, complaining….. Ugh! I either ignore it and let them duke it out on their own, which works quite well much of the time, or I intervene and appear as Evil Mama. Trust me, you do not want to cross Evil Mama! She does not mess around. (When you are the only parent supervising a group of at least 5 kids you can’t give an inch… or else you lose.)

Most of the time spent with our neighborhood kids is wonderful. The kids get tons of activity (bikes are a big hit) and use their imagination (army games seem to be “the” game at the moment, they’re always on some secret mission or other). And a few other parents are usually out there watching over their kids so the adults can congregate and converse as well. Yes, there are squabbles. Yes, feelings get hurt. And on occasion, yes, someone does get pummeled. But isn’t this part of growing up? Isn’t this where each personal character begins to take shape and is molded? Isn’t this how it’s supposed to be? All in all it’s a very safe place to grow up, not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Most of the kids come from loving families that do their best to instill values and raise healthy, well-adjusted children.

Unfortunately, there are a few parents who are rarely seen, some never seen. Nevertheless their kids are free to run the streets. For a while I was angry, and quite frankly, concerned by this lack of supervision. Like I said, the oldest of our group is only 7. I thought it unfair that only a couple of us care for and watch over all the children. I was upset that I was constantly out there alone (or accompanied by only one other parent), or their kids were constantly in my home, while they were doing who knows what (I honestly have no idea what some parents do while their children are gone for hours on end).

After a time of entertaining these thoughts I realized they were doing nothing but causing unnecessary negativity within my being. The situation wasn’t any different but I was becoming increasingly annoyed and irritated. I finally realized how dumb I was being and told myself to get over it already! I came to realize that I was actually being given a precious and important gift. I was (I am) able to be with my children, as their guardian, instructor and support all the time. I am involved with each of my three children almost every hour of the day. I am also very involved with their friends nearly every day. How great is this?! I am laying a foundation of trust and involvement that will stand firm (hopefully!) for the years to come. My kids are used to my presence and my involvement in their lives, without being overbearing. I give them independence... while keeping a watchful eye. 

My desire is for this closeness to take a firm hold within my children and flourish so that in the years to come I will be “let in” as they grow, change and mature, as they dive in to new phases and stages of life, as they experience new things and feelings (some good, some challenging). There won’t be a need to prove myself worthy of their trust, I’ll have gained it already through my years of consistent and constant “being there”. Who knows, I may even be honored with “being there” for some of their friends as well.

I no longer resent my position as one of the only supervising parents. I now acknowledge it for the privilege that it is. I strive to be a positive influence for them all, watching over them, helping fix their bikes or boo-boos, offering snacks or water, laughing at jokes, watching them perform a “cool move”, calming a dispute and every once in a while, when necessary, unleashing Evil Mama.

I am truly blessed and truly grateful.

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Chimpanzee/Kangaroo

I hate to admit this and yet I must face the facts. My 21 month old daughter has me (the mother!) very well trained. I feel like her pet animal that she has carefully and painstakingly groomed and trained over months of deliberate, yet secretive work. How in the world did this happen? Boy is she good! I am supposed to be the one doing the training, not her. She’s so sneaky…

I didn’t even realize this fact until just the other day. I was explaining to my neighbor what my daughter does and it hit me like a lightning bolt, she has me trained. She’s managed to teach me how to hold her for about 80% of the time she’s up and awake.

I lovingly (ok, sometimes after a long day not so lovingly) call her my little monkey because she literally clings to me like a monkey, a cute little baby chimpanzee. You can’t help but love one even if it destroys the house and throws poo at you. No, my daughter doesn’t engage in this behavior, thank God. But she clings! It’s surprising the amount of strength these little ones possess. Maybe she’s closer related to a baby kangaroo, always tucked safely and securely away in her mother’s pouch. If only I actually had a pouch to tuck her into so I could be hands free! (As a side note, tried the sling, she hates it).

My daughter, the chimpanzee/kangaroo, wants to be held by none other than her precious mama all the live-long day. I love her, I love her dearly, but man can she be exhausting. It’s to the point now where I almost feel naked if she’s not in my arms (ok, slight exaggeration). But you get the point, she’s in my arms way more often than not.

Here’s the part where she has me trained: if I dare to allow her dainty toes to touch the floor (heaven forbid!) she screams. And screams and screams and screams. Oh, and then just in case I didn’t quite get the message, she screams and screams again. If I fail to respond to this rational and polite request she will either 1. stomp her feet in place, crying and carrying on, 2. wrap her arms and one leg around my leg and latch on with a death grip, or 3. run over to the carpet and dramatically through herself down in complete and utter despair. Ay currumba! God save the poor lass. Woe to her and her pitiful state. If, after one of these episodes fails to get my attention, she will take turns and try each of them out, alternately.

She is my third child. I have experienced tantrums, belligerence and noncompliance many times before. This is nothing new. I’m a pro at ignoring, re-directing or disciplining unwanted behavior. I even wrote a book that touches on the subject. However, this particular issue is difficult. Re-directing, forget it, doesn’t work at all with this one. Ignoring, well I have, unfortunately to no avail. She’ll keep going. Disciplining, yes, she’s now at the age where she understands she is being naughty. I’ll have to explore this option further and see if it helps. I haven’t technically disciplined her yet because here’s the main dilemma. This is how I’m the trained mama: After removing her vice grip from my body and succeeding in setting her down, before I know it, she’s right back in my dang arms again! She’s like a reverse escape artist! She gets back in without me even realizing it. I tell ya, the girl has some skills. So many times I’ve been holding her and only after a few minutes realize that she’s right back up here after I set her down and said no more, mama needs a break. What the heck?

I think what happens is that in the madness of the moment I forget what’s going on and just pick her up again automatically, without consciously being aware of my actions. I usually go through my day at a hectic pace, constantly juggling all the differing directions I’m being pulled in. Within the chaos that is my brain I notice that there is a crying child at my feet and stoop to pick her up and soothe her. And viola! She’s back in my arms. Trained mama.

Of course the kicker is that all of the above scenario is completely null and void if she decides she’d like to get down and do something else on her own, such as ride her bike or play with the other kids. If this should be the case, then I better back off or suffer the wrath because she can do it by herself mama, thank you very much. Every so often Miss Independent decides to make an appearance and I get a break, well at least my arms do, the rest of me has to watch her like a hawk and make sure she doesn’t run down the street in the middle of the road chasing after her long gone brothers (yes, she’s done this), or climb on top of the freezer in the garage in order to reach the button that opens and closes the garage door (she’s done this as well, very nearly missing a nasty fall to the floor, got there just in time!) or rummage through the pantry in search of more fruit snacks (she would be one giant fruit snack if I let her eat all she wanted).

I know this is a phase. I know she’ll grow out of it. I know I’ll miss holding her later on down the road. I try to remind myself of this and manage without too much complaint, yet when you’re in the midst of hardship it can be a challenge to take such an objective stance, to remember this is temporary and in the grand scheme of things not even a big deal. In the meantime I’ll do my best to adequately care for my little chimpanzee/kangaroo.

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The Question

A conversation I recently overheard between my boys:

L is my four year old, my middle child. C is my oldest, he just turned 7 in December.

L: (enters the room where his brother is, energetic, chipper and cheery) Hey C, how are you today?

C: (distracted and aloof). Good.

L: What are you doing?

C: Nothing.

L: What did you eat for breakfast?

C: Cereal.

L: How did God make us?

C: Ummm….. (he looks up, for the first time vaguely interested in the conversation, he shrugs) With his powers.

Isn’t it fascinating how kids move from a simple ordinary conversation to a topic that leaves you speechless? This happens all the time. We’re sitting at the table or playing outside or driving in the car, really the location doesn’t matter at all, engaged in a typical back and forth of bickering (“Mama, it’s my turn now, I want it!”) or asking questions (“Mama, when can I play my video games?”) or the never ending pleading and begging for more food (“Mama, can I have a snack? I’m sooooo hungry.”); and them BAM! out of nowhere comes the deep, complex question, “Mama, why did Grandma have to die?”

After 7 years I should be more accustomed to these surprise attacks but they usually still catch me off guard. I make a point to have deeper conversations with my kids from time to time, but these ones are on my terms, after I’ve prepared for them, at least slightly. I think it’s important to broach subject matter of importance here and there. Of course these conversations are very one-sided and usually pretty short since the attention span I have to work with is approximately 30 seconds, if I’m lucky. But I want them to start pondering and thinking for themselves on issues of morality and spirituality and the like.

So when I’m brushing my four year olds hair in the morning and we’re both singing The Itsy Bitsy Spider I am quite taken aback when he abruptly stops and asks “But mama, how do you push the baby out of your tummy?”. I freeze for a split second and wonder, is this the time to fully explain the miracle of birth? Or should I skip it and offer a vague answer, hoping that will satisfy? I always vacillate about what and how to reply to these types of questions. My husband and I agree that we will be honest and open with our kids but exactly how open and how honest does the situation require? He’s four, should I explain in detail since he’s asking or is it better to prolong the gory details till he’s a little older? Sometimes I worry about how what I tell him translates when he repeats my explanation to others. Stories can easily get scrambled and I don’t want others getting the wrong impression about what takes place in our household. However, I don’t believe in intentionally and repeatedly keeping my kids in the dark either. A real dilemma…

I usually have this mental struggle (which lasts mere seconds) every time one of these surprises makes an appearance. And here’s what typically follows: Deep breath. Ok, let’s tackle this with words he’ll understand. I begin to painstakingly stumble my way through the complexities of childbirth. After a few seconds I feel like I’m making headway and miraculously doing a good job at explaining when I’m interrupted with “Mama, can I ride my bike?”

I have rarely actually finished explaining one of these deep, profound questions before my boys lose interest entirely and have already moved on to more pressing matters, such as riding their bikes or scheming new ways to terrorize each other. I should probably just give the simple, evasive answer and carry on with the mundane. It is, after all, what they seem to prefer. 

But I just know that one of these times they’ll be asking me for real, out of genuine curiosity and a desire to learn and contemplate. I want to be prepared and available for this time, open and honest so I can be there for them when it’s their time to grow and mature.


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The Zoo

I thought it’d be fun to take the kids to the zoo one day during their winter break from school. I invited my mom along to share in the day, and she brought my little nephew (7 mos) who she watches once a week. It was a beautiful day, overcast but not chilly, almost ideal for a day spent outdoors.

I think this visit was the best I’ve had as far as animal interaction goes. It’s like we hit some cosmic marvel because most of the animals were not only out in the open where you could see them but they were highly active as well. Sometimes when we visit the zoo half the animals are hidden in some secret part of their area completely non-visible to humans. Other times we go we can see the animals all right, they just refuse to move or wake up. This time however a great majority of them were visible, moving about and giving the viewers lots of entertainment. It was marvelous.

We watched the giraffes glide along with their beautiful gate, we admired the tiger’s powerful yet stealth-like walk, we laughed at the teeny tiny monkeys that leaped and played in the trees around us, we applauded the mighty elephant who did tricks before receiving his meal, we gawked at the lion who showed us much more of himself than necessary and empathized with the lioness who had her back turned to him in what appeared to be nothing less than scorn, we giggled at the bright baboon butts, and we marveled at the very apparent family bonds and interaction amongst the orangutans. We saw much, walked for hours and spent a truly enjoyable morning together.

My 7 month old nephew is very social and observant. He takes in his surroundings with curiosity combined with seriousness. He often displays a face deep in thought, as though contemplating the existence of humankind. As babies do, he can instantaneously transform his features to radiate with extreme joy and happiness, as though bubbling over from within. He spent most of the morning switching back and forth between these two moods.

He also was not about to sit alone in his comfy stroller while all the other kids roamed about freely and at such a greater height than he. I quickly realized the futility of keeping him in the stroller and decided to hold him up high (ok, higher) with freer movement. He remained in my arms for a good two hours. I often say he is the easiest baby in the world to hold. He just rests effortlessly in your arms. But after two hours, even he got heavy. So we stashed him back in the dreaded stroller and quickly popped a teething cookie into his hands. Best move ever! This little cookie (or cracker…? Not exactly sure what it was) kept him thoroughly entertained and occupied for another hour! He chewed on that sucker nonstop, in sheer bliss. At the end of our outing he was covered, literally from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet in mushy, smeared, caked on cookie crumbs. He was quite a sight! All we could identify of his former self were his two little round eyes shining out from behind cookie mush.

My kids were running around the place like chickens with their heads cut off. We could have easily caged them and placed them on exhibit as well with the way they were running to and fro like little wild bambinos. Even my daughter took part in the mayhem. She doesn’t technically run yet, it’s more of an animated, brisk walk accompanied by squeaks and squawks with her arms stretching straight up and out. Now it’s not like we’ve never been to the zoo before, or even out in public for that matter. They are well acquainted with the zoo (and with social norms). They know how to behave. I’ve spent much, much, much, much time educating in this area. But something was in the air this day, something that made them feel it was all right to throw caution to the wind and be free. I don’t know, maybe it was the same something that affected all the zoo animals too. I finally gave up the broken record commands and decided as long as they were safe, in sight, and not harming others, I would let them explore their wildness. We were, after all, at a zoo, surrounded by wild animals. What were three more?

The morning ended with my nephew and my daughter in tears, exhausted beyond comprehension, ready for some real food and some real sleep, whichever happened to come first. My nephew ended up falling asleep in my arms on our way to the car, completely worn out. He didn’t awake until much later when his mother (I’m sure slightly horrified at his appearance) picked him up. My daughter somehow managed to keep her little eyes open till she ate, but we did have to listen to her sad whimpers all the way home. The boys were elated, having enjoyed exotic animals, the petting zoo, and hours of (mostly) unhindered freedom to be wild little boys.

All in all, a fantastic day!

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Insanity

My posts will hardly ever be like this one. I'm making an exception, taking a break from story telling in order to give a review. I much more enjoy sharing my life stories with you but this particular program has been such a big part of my life for the last 9 weeks I feel I must share about it. Next week I'll be back to normal, sharing regular true stories that make you laugh (hopefully!) or ponder....


I believe that we should all strive to be healthy and care for our bodies. No, I do not advocate succumbing to societal pressures on what a female body should look like. The woman we see on TV and in ads are paid millions of dollars to look like that, many have surgery and almost all adhere to rigorous workout routines and diets with personal trainers and personal chefs to maintain their physique. So, while I do not think all women should look like super models, I do think all women should make their health and physical well being a priority by making wise eating habits and incorporating physical activity into their days.

Having said this (the above being my background for what's to follow) it should be known that I love to eat. I love food, I worship chocolate and I drink red wine often. I do not exclude food from my diet, I just can't do it. Nor do I overindulge (ok, actually yes I do on certain chocolate products). I do take great pains to ensure I eat very healthy as well though, TONS of vegetables, lots of fruit and protein and very little carbs. I also make working out a priority and get myself to the gym 3 times a week.

Over the summer I realized that I was gaining weight. Not drastically but a few pounds, for sure. I am a little person, 5'2" (no, that's not a typo). Yep, I'm shorty-pants over here. A few pounds on a little person is noticeable. I complained about it enough to my husband that he finally up and bought me a work out video I had been eying called Insanity.

I was not overly excited about beginning this program. It looked pretty intense from the commercial I'd seen about it and it requires you to exercise 6 days a week! Ok, 3 was pushing it for me already. How was I going to do 6? But I knew something had to give. The fact was I was gaining weight and it was making me unhappy. I needed to do something about it and did not fancy dieting. Thus began my Insanity journey.

Once I made the decision to do it there was no turning back. I devoted myself to it whole-heartedly. I exercised every scheduled day, following the program to a T, not missing a single day or cutting any workout short. I was committed and sincere. I pushed myself hard (there's really no choice anyway) and tried to do better each day.

At first it seemed impossible. After the warm-up on day one I wanted to be done. I was tired, sweaty and sore, just from the warm-up! The sessions aren't even that long during the entire first 4 weeks, 30-40 min (they increase to 60 min at week 6). Seems easy, right? Nope. It was a struggle. But I persisted. It's very strange but somewhere during the 7th week the workouts actually became easier. I noticed myself pushing through to the end without feeling an intense desire to keel over and die right there in the middle of the floor, buried by my sweat. I would actually finish and feel pretty darn good! Exhausted, yes, but good.

Making the time to exercise every day with three kids (plus everything else in my life: school, soccer, homework, chores, errands, not to mention my writing, etc.) was no piece of cake. It took creativity and determination. My kids had to adjust and quickly learned to expect my workout time. We made the best of it. They would surround themselves with toys and activities and I would pop in my Insanity DVD. In fact, they would even get on the floor and participate (very sporadically) with me! Talk about adorable!!

I'm proud to say I just completed my 9 weeks. Yay! To be honest, I was a little disappointed by the results... that is until I saw my before and after photos (no, I will not be posting them. Trust me, it's for the best). There really is a big difference! The reason I was slightly disappointed was because I really wanted a completely flat stomach. After 3 kids it's pretty flat but I still have this extra, stretchy skin.... How do you get rid of that anyway? I was hoping Insanity would do the trick. It didn't, but I am smaller and firmer all around. My butt and legs especially look much improved (I hear this from my husband constantly! He loves my new butt).

In fact, none of my jeans fit, they are all huge on me so I have to wear a belt. A good problem to have, I guess. When I started I was ever so slightly bulging out the sides of my jeans (the main indicator I needed to lose some weight and the big motivator to actually do so!). I don't have a scale so I don't know how many pounds I lost. But I am very happy with my overall appearance.

So, my review after completion: GREAT workout. It will make you sweat like never before and you will firm and tone. It is challenging so if you don't currently work out it will be super hard (but not impossible, so go for it!!). The only part I was not happy with are my abs... I really want them taut and firm! So, I am continuing with Insanity, however I am returning to 3 days/week instead of 6. I think this should keep me in good shape. I can always do the full program again right before bikini season if need be... And let's not forget, I did carry 3 kids in my tummy and they did an excellent job at stretching it out for me. :) A little stretch is well worth it though.... I love my kids!!!


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Birthday Bonanza

We celebrated my oldest son's 7th birthday last weekend. Wow... I was under the distinct impression that this party would be easy. I had it all planned out, we've done this before, I had everything I needed. For some reason though the party was completely chaotic. Not what I was expecting. I thought each year would get easier, as they kids got older. Why did I think this? Well probably because I didn't know any better. I've since learned from moms with older kids that the exact opposite is in fact true.

So anyway, I was very happy and ready for the party. I love celebrating with my kids. The house was spotless (I spent the entire previous day cleaning), I had the party favors set out, the donuts were on the table (he chose donuts instead of cake), the banners were up, the cameras were charged and set in a easy to get to place, music was playing, and the boys were already playing in the bounce house.

The neighbor kids had seen the bounce house arrive and had been over at our house playing in it for over an hour. At 15 minutes before the party I sent them all home and told them to return when the party started. I needed some time for last minute prep (change the baby's diapers, put decent clothes on the boys, one last comb through everyone's hair, and last but not least, a quick bathroom run).

The plan was to have the kids play in the bounce house intermittently so as to avoid catastrophe. I thought if we broke it up into shorter segments the likelihood of injury would decrease. Again, don't ask my why I thought this, I just did. It made sense in my head, but of course real life doesn't always follow my thought process. Ok, it hardly ever does. Life has a way of unfolding that often seems to overlook and completely bypass my carefully layed out intentions. Today was no exception.

So, the kids begin to arrive and make a beeline for the bounce house. So far, so good. I get stuck close to the door greeting so I can't monitor the bounce house. However, my parents are here and I trust them to regulate. My husband is nowhere to be found. He left earlier to pick up the pizzas but he's late, about 20 minutes late. We were supposed to be eating 5 minutes ago according to my schedule. Deep breath in, slow exhale. It's ok, I tell myself.

At this moment our first big bounce house clash of the day happens. There ended up being so many I lost count. At one point the entire bounce house collapsed over to one side with kids falling to the ground, trapped underneath my husband. What the heck?! He was supposed to be monitoring the kids in there, not causing more problems. Ugh! I should have known better. My husband is great, but he's bound to push the limits more than anyone. He's a big kid at heart and lets it show at every opportunity.

The pizzas finally arrive, evidently the oven broke (when does that ever happen?) so they get here about 25 minutes late. The kids desperately need a bouncy break. They down the pizza and we walk over to the park, two houses down. The idea is to play 2 games here. One I am in charge of. As I practiced it in my mind before the party it seemed so simple and fun. The actual outcome turns out to be very confusing for some of the kids, making it not nearly as fun as I had pictured. Ok, no biggie, I'll just quickly move on to the next game so we don't dwell on the semi-flop.

My husband is in charge of a game of kickball. Mind you, this is his only responsibility of the day (besides picking up the pizzas). He is not prepared, not even close. No ball, no teams, no rules, no organization in the least. Yes, at this point I get irritated. So naturally instead of just letting it go and relaxing, I intervene and take over (I don't relax very well in these situations). I hurriedly make up a version of kickball all the kids understand (some have never played before). After a shaky start it ends up going rather well.

After the games are played I hand out candy to the winners, well it's gum, the rolled up kind. Wouldn't you know it, every single one is as hard as a rock! Impossible to chew (when does that ever happen?). Another flop.

Back to the bounce house. Within minutes there are several more injuries. Really?
What are they doing in there? So we move on to presents, a safe move I think, and yet even this turns out to be chaos. Since when did kids stop understanding the words, "Please sit down."? I sound like a broken record asking them to remain seated so we can all see the happenings. After this we have donuts and then back to the wonderful (dreaded) bounce house. The kids love it even though they keep getting hurt. It turns me into a nervous wreck, hoping to God I won't get yelled at by a parent.

Throughout the entire party I am running around like a crazy woman taking photos, recording video, getting the candle lit, showing people the restroom, all the little behind the scenes stuff that takes place, while simultaneously attempting to maintain an aura of calm and control. Not sure exactly how that came off....

By the end of the party, a mere two hours later (it felt like all day) I am spent. This year seemed so much more work than years previous. Man am I tired. But the kids seemed to have had a truly wonderful time, and in all honestly I did too. Despite the bumps and mishaps it is a fun-filled day, full of memories to cherish. And most importantly, my son is happy.

The neighbor kids are the last to leave, and only because I tell them the party is over and they need to leave. Of course they beg to stay. I cave and tell them to go home and return in one hour (I need a small break).

I finally have a minute to sit down and enjoy my donut (I wisely grabbed and hid a chocolate one for later!). Ahhhh..... it feels so good to sit.

Knock, knock, knock. All the neighbor kids are back. It's been exactly 20 minutes. Oh well, at least I got some chocolate! My son only gets this birthday once, right? Might as well live it up.