My second daughter had her 8th birthday this weekend. I'm not the kinda guy to be all up on schedules when it comes to household stuff. You know, birthday parties, etc. The wife handles that one.
That doesn't mean I don't remember my kids birthday's either. The point falls more to the notion that even though I know her birthday is Feb 8th, I don't exactly know how many celebrations there will be, or who will be involved. I just know that I will need to be on standby becuase there will be some sort of a party, and I will have some sort of responsibility.
I also know (after 12 years of marriage), to expect that there may or may not be another party the weekend before or after to share witht the in-laws and cousins, or actually whichever side of the family doesn't show up for the actual celebration.
I know it's coming. I just don't know the specifics. Which is where I usually get housed. Like this past Friday for example. All is well. Doing some work, having a few stop overs for some quick meetings and chats.
It's 3 o'clock and here come the two oldest off the school bus. Only this time they have 3 more kids with them. Nevermind the fact that I was told to write a note that morning for Sydneys teacher explaining that Gianna, Sophia, and Haley would be getting on the bus with her. That little tidbit escaped my mind until I saw them walk, no explode into the house with my daughters.
My oldest, Cierra, saw the immediate look of confusion on my face when the others tore up the steps into Syd's bedroom, and just shook her head as if to say, "I knew you would forget about this, dummy!". She's turning into her mother.
Anywho it was my responsibility to take those crazies to go see a movie. Rock Solid! Taken it is! I really wanted to see that movie. Couldn't wait. When I explained that was the film I wanted to see, I was attacked with multiple sorties of NO's, followed by CORALINE, CORALINE, CORALINE!!!!
SO Coraline it was. Awesome. Well, at least I could bring the crackberry and play poker during the whole movie. I obviously wouldn't be interested in an animated 3-D movie about some 10 year kid who is obviously on acid.
That lasted until the part where they had the 70 year old huge breasted lady in bikini bottoms and pasties while performing a broadway-like musical. I'll stop there so as to not give away any spoilers, since I know that most of you will be running out to see the matinee after you have read that last line.
I was ready for a sleep over after the movie, but that apparently wasn't on the books, and I had to jettison each of the other girls at their respective houses after the movie. I was however, met back at the house with another sleep over for the 4 year old and our neighbor friend. They all slept in the den, in front of the TV keeping me from watching what I wanted. And of course, they did't fall asleep until about 2am. Long after I had x's for eyes with the drool sliding out of the corner of my mouth while I sat up allowing the laptop battery to die.
Saturday was more of the same, sans a trip to the movie theater, and Sunday was yet again more of the same only with dinner at the local Appleby's with my mother and father. Fantastic! Not.
Dad and I got into a debate about the stimulus package, the boy was salty because he couldn't get ice cream out of the gates, and the restaurant was understaffed, so we were there about an hour before anything hit the table to distract the children. Thanks goodness they were stocked with scotch. Even if it was just Dewars.
Needless to say, she got her DS and is extremely content with the other stuff for her Birthday. The 8 year old is the pitbull of the family. You don't mess with her. She's been to the pub. She has played field hockey, and basketball with more brute force than talent. She certainly isn't the surgeoun of the family as much as she is bull dozer. We respect her for that. I lover her for it.
Next weekend we get to do it all over again as we celebrate with the wifes' side of the family, deciding to take care of two birthdays at once. The niece turns 6 so they both get double treatment. I guess that's the way it goes anymore Hell, they almost expect it.
So Happy Brithday to my Sydney. Only two months away from the next one! Only this time it's the boys. That one should be easy. He'll only be three.
1 comment:
Hmmm I am starting to rethink this "Just get them out of diapers and everything will be easy" dream I have.
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