Goose

So, we had a birthday. Not just a birthday party. Not just a birthday. An entire birthday weekend. Now, we are slowly rebounding from all the sugar and the excessive Grandma-spoiling.  There was a lot of, "Can I play with Grandma's iPad?" heard this weekend. A lot.

We had an art party for my three-year old's birthday. Ten kids and sixteen adults crammed into a small space rife with stereotypes. There was the kid that was probably (still) sick, that was quiet, limp and barely ate his lovingly homemade cupcake. There was the attention-seeking only child who yelled the loudest, jumped the highest (and most) and insisted on doing everything first - even before the birthday girl. There was the childless friend from high school who came with his pregnant wife (first pregnancy). They stayed for the cupcakes, but then got the hell out of Dodge (can you blame them?).

My daughter, "Goose," got her first Barbie. And, she actually got three of them. Though, my husband insists that the one that he chose is a Disney princess action figure. She cried not once, but twice at her party - when her friends sang, "Happy Birthday." She had her first ice cream cake. She had McDonalds for her birthday dinner (don't judge me).

Needless to say, I was a little busy playing the part of Martha Stewart-positive parenting-SuperMom.

There was a lot of empty wine bottles for the recycling crew to pick up this morning.