"I don't know what this world's about/ But this will be our year"

When I was little I used to be obsessed with my birthday or more importantly my birthday party. And I mean obsessed. Like my mom had to make a rule that I wasn't allowed to talk about my birthday until after my brother's birthday on April 13th because I'd debate whether I wanted Pink Power Ranger party or one of those cakes with the Barbie stuck in it (never got one) starting in January. I just love birthdays (not even just my own. I get excited for other people too)! I was a master unwrapper at the young age of two. No one could tear their way to a Sesame Street VHS (how's that for old school?) or Big Bird tricycle faster than this girl. In the hour leading up to my actual party, I would sit outside and just wait for the first guest to arrive. I loved that part. I know, I'm a dork. But I'm okay with that.

In elementary school, my birthday rocked. Sometimes it fell on field day, that awesome day where your entire class wears the same shirt with a mascot that matches the letter of your teacher's last name (Moore's m&m's, Waller's Wildcats), you don't have class, and you spend the day competing in balloon tosses, potato sack races, and tug of war for much-coveted First Place ribbons. Sometimes my birthday party would also fall on field day and all the girls would load up into my mom's minivan for the party after watching the annual 5th grade vs sixth softball game to head to my house for cake, ice cream, and presents. Ahhhh the memories.

But my birthday took on, shall we say different memories in high school (frankly, I don't remember my birthday in middle school minus the really cool older girl who actually turned out to be quite the witch signing the poster on my locker): My beloved birthday started to fall in the middle of AP finals. Senior year I had to take the AP Biology exam (AWFUL) on my birthday and my mom wouldn't even let me check out of school after it. I did have my first surprise party that year the following day thanks to my friends so that made up for it. But still, not the actual day that was spent in the library trying to write about osmosis and cell division and bacteria.

Then there was college, oh lovely college. Freshmen year was the WORST. The night before, I stayed up studying in my freezing cold dorm room alone for my geology final. I woke up and felt terrible so I ran to the bathroom. As I was walking out, I fainted (ew). Like completely wiped out. I thought "Oh good I made it to my dorm. The floor is so cold. Wait, how did I get here?" and then I opened my eyes and say the grimy tile floor and I got out of there. Then I had to muster up the strength to go and take my 200 question geology final. Then I had about an hour to move out of my dorm before the check-out time. Luckily I had done most of the work the day before, but the few trips I had left were not fun. I then drove home to Atlanta sick as a dog and didn't even get to go out to dinner with my friends and family. Worst. Birthday. Ever.

Sophomore and Junior year I had finals right before my birthday but was spared a final on the actual day. So I would have my party on the actual day. Unfortunately a lot of my friends would already be studying abroad or doing their summer plans so those parties were lacking a tad in attendance but ultimately good.

Senior year I realized my birthday was going to fall on graduation. You know, a time where people have their parents and family in town and will have lots of plans and activities. Awesome. This was when I was hanging out with my awesome group of friends every weekend and I really wanted to celebrate with them especially before we all went our separate ways for the summer and in some cases, life. So I got smart and had it a few weeks earlier in April to ensure more people could make it. But yep, birthday was on graduation last year (not the best gift ever) and I woke up early, sat in the blazing sun, heard some cliched inspirational speeches and wore an itchy gown and goofy hat. My family had come up the day before since that's when the smaller English department ceremony was so I had no family plans while all my other friends did. But we all got to hang out that night and it was a good, good night.

This year my birthday (May 9th) is getting trumped by mother's day (as it did last when I was a junior in high school). I mean my mom is awesome so of course let's celebrate but come on, really? My birthday is already on a Sunday which is statistically the worst day of the week to have a birthday. But luckily this won't happen for another six years. :)

Okay, okay: We are also waiting to celebrate my and my brother-in-law BR's birthdays in a few weeks when my sister's family is visiting from Seattle. But it doesn't sound as dramatic when I include that part.

"Happy birthday/ Happy birthday/ Happy happy birthday to you!"

I just put people who forget to tell people happy birthday to shame. I told my sister, LA, happy birthday twelve, that's right twelve, different ways. So if you need any help coming up with some ideas, here they are:

1. I gave her a shout out on the previous blog post. Which she didn't see cause apparently she was delirious when she read it. Still counts though.

2. I told her happy birthday on gChat at approximately 1:40 this morning. So since she lives in Seattle it was technically East Coast time and not her birthday yet. But it still counts since Georgia is her true home.

3. Obligatory (inside joke. haha!) Facebook wall post.

4. I sent her a card (along with a gift card) in the mail and it got to Seattle before her birthday. I could count the gift card as a separate happy birthday but I won't.

5. I tweeted a happy birthday to her on good old Twitter.

6. Along with a link to her family's website, I wrote happy birthday to her in my gchat status.

7. I told her happy birthday on the phone. Like the good ol' days.

8. My mom and I talked to her on gmail's video chat this afternoon and sang happy birthday.

9. I texted her happy birthday!

10. I sent an e-mail saying "Happy Birthday!!!" with each letter in a different pretty color.

11. I sent an e-card that sings, dances, and is interactive.

12. I posted a comment on her family's blog.

I contemplated making it my facebook status, sending her a message on facebook, and hiring a skywriter but it's raining in Seattle today (go figure) so that'd be a wash.

In all honesty, I had done about six of the things when I talked to her on the phone so we joked about how I was winning at telling her happy birthday (I'm competitive). And then we came up with the idea of me coming up with as many ways as possible. I think 12 suffices. She also said I would spend the rest of the day coming up with ideas. Well it's only 5:30, maybe I can get to fifteen....

Actually this entire blog post in itself is a big old happy birthday so it's thirteen! Booya!

You were a child/ Crawling on your knees towards it/ Making mama (not) so proud/ But your voice is too loud

So my adorable niece, SD had her birthday party last week. Simple concept: Party at the pool in my mom's neighborhood and then back to the house for cake and games. Oh how I wish things would have been that simple.

The guest list was small considering eight kids from SD's class were coming so including the birthday girl and her little sister MG, there would only be ten kids. Yeah but hop those kids up on cookie cake and it seems like there are a lot more running around and screaming their heads off. (The cookie cake was the true highlight of the party for me and the other adults. Sidenote: This is the second year in a row I have picked up the cake for my sister. Both years as I am waiting in line, I seriously have to fight the urge to buy a "Double Doozie". They look amazing. One day, one day. You know, when I have 13,000 calories to spare.) But seriously, is this what I was like in the first grade? Did I repeat the same joke as the funny kid twenty-five times along with everyone else (Example: My brother-in-law, BR, arrived at the pool after the kids had. SD and MG, excited to see their father, ran up to hug him saying "Hi Daddy!" and then the one class clown.. oh yes they have already fallen into these stereotypes in the 1st grade... ran up and did it too. This caused the seven other kids to start yelling, and I mean yelling "hi daddy" to each other for five minutes and hysterically laughing. Do I get why it's funny? No. Is it cause I'm not six years old? Probably)? Did I make gross noises along with the rest of the class? Did I smear icing on the other kids' faces in front of 10 adults? I just don't think I did. I was a well-behaved kid in the realm of school and parties and stuff like that. But who knows? Maybe mob mentality kicks in and you just start going crazy. But if I did act like this back in the day, I sincerely apologize to Mrs. Moore and all of my other elementary school teachers.

And it's not like I don't like little kids. I always have. I use to beg my sister to let me go with her on baby-sitting jobs when I was younger. I worked at a camp for three summers with kids ranging in age from 6 weeks to 10 years old. I have nieces. I like little kids. Well maybe I should rephrase that to "I like well-behaved little kids". My nieces are well-behaved. They don't cause scenes in public places. But these kids-- goodness. I understand it's summer, a birthday party, and they are 6/7 years old. But come on! The pool part wasn't too terrible. Minus the fear of a child drowning on your watch (I did find it funny that the rest of the adult family members supervising were extremely focused on which of the fifteen or so kids at the pool were in our group. Cause if you see a kid drowning but he isn't a part of the birthday party, you aren't going to jump in and save him? We shouldn't discriminate). They played some games like seeing who could jump the farthest and took turns pushing BR into the pool. Good times all around. Little did I know, this was the calm before the storm...

Then we walk the short distance back to my mom's house for lunch and cake and a game or two. My mom has a pretty well-stocked playroom upstairs for my nieces and the girls were told to go and change in there while the adults set up lunch (pizza and fruit salad) for the kids. So a couple of minutes later I noticed some of the little girls were missing from the table when lunch was being served. So I go upstairs and find the Mean Girls trio in-training playing with "The Littlest Pet Shop" and Disney Princess toys (Sidenote: I don't get the deal with Littlest Pet Shop. My nieces are obsessed. Maybe I would have been too at their age. But I don't get it. They are so freaking tiny! What's the point when you lose the things half the time?). I put on my excited aunt/camp counselor voice and told them that it was lunch time and they needed to come downstairs. So the girls started whining and complaining about how they wanted to stay and play. I then told them (nicely) it was time to eat and they could play afterwards. The girls tried to bring the toys downstairs and I told them to leave them upstairs because there was no point in making a big mess upstairs and downstairs. Then one little girl turned to me and gave me a look as she snidely explained, "That's the whole point of birthday parties. To make big messes". There may have even been a "duh" attached. But most certainly there was an exasperated sigh as she had to explain this to an obviously incompetent twenty-two year old. Well, excuse me for not knowing that was the whole point of birthday parties these days. I thought it was to see friends, eat cake, and play some games. But apparently, according to Little Miss Priss, times have changed since I was a kid. It took some (read: a lot of) effort to not quip "Well then I am sure you won't mind coming back upstairs with me later and helping me pick up all of the impossibly small toys you have strewn about the room in the five minutes you've been in here" and simply said they could come back and play after lunch. That didn't stop them from hiding a few choice princess dolls in the dress-up box to ensure that no one else would get a shot at playing with them. Oh and when it was decided by other adults that it would be best for the kids to play outside rather than upstairs (because the room would have been demolished in 38 seconds flat) Little Miss Priss was annoyed that I did not fulfill my promise of returning to the playroom. And she let me know it by trying to call me out like I could get in trouble or something. Kids today, sheesh.

So lunch and cake finally started. Honestly, I have no words. It was so loud and so chaotic, I had to walk away after a few minutes. The noises and the yelling: the completely typical behavior of 6/7 year olds I'm sure. I feel sorry for the teacher (saint?) that had to put up with this for an entire school year. That's another thing! These kids all go to a relatively small private Christian school in the atlanta area. Two of them were the Pastor's kids! And this is the behavior they exhibit? It was unbelievable. Oh and one boy had a punctured eardrum so he had to have wax in his ear in the pool. That's cool. What's not cool is the fact that he changed in our downstairs bathroom and then... oh I cringe as I write this... apparently pulled the wax thing out, rolled it up in a ball, and threw it on the floor near the mat in the living room where my three-month old niece was happily playing. I walked over thinking it was a ball, stooped to pick it up, realized what it was, and recoiled in fear as well as disgust. And while my siblings made fun of me for freaking out, none of them were willing to pick it up either. We had to call my mom in to handle it since she wouldn't be fazed and is a professional in all things gross after having five kids and seven granddaughters.

Then they played a version of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey where I did feel bad for the second kid that went because he got it close to the right spot and then all the other kids used his as a guide to get even closer the correct spot. But there were no prizes so no tears were shed. And then the best part of the whole ordeal-- the parents came! But man, some of those kids are sassy to their parents, so of course why would they be any better in the presence of absolute strangers? That's another thing: When I was little I can remember being in absolute awe of people older than me. I idolized the 6th grade safety patrols when I was a mere first grader. Anytime we had a special helper who seemed to be a high schooler or, gasp, a college student, I would try to be on my best impressive behavior around them. These kids couldn't have cared less. They also thought my 30 year-old sister was my mom so they might be bad at guessing ages. Not saying they should worship me or my siblings but maybe try to, you know, not act like a little hoodlum.

Now I know I shouldn't judge so much because I don't have kids of my own but I do have brothers and sisters that are raising well-behaved kids so I can use them for comparison. But attending a variety of parties for my nieces over the years, has made me realize that my child will be having one kid over for their birthday parties. I will also ask who is the quietest and shyest kid in their class and he/she will most certainly be the sole guest. And best case scenario (for me), the kid will be mute.

Disclaimer: The party was an overall success. The birthday girl had a wonderful time, the cake was delicious, the decorations were topnotch, and my sister MR sure does know how to throw an eventful and memorable party.