Yesterday was T's third birthday party. And while it was in fact his 3rd birthday party, it was also his THIRD BIRTHDAY PARTY. He had one at school...
A mini one at home on his actual birthday...
And then a blow-out party yesterday for all of his friends. (Which included a Costco cake. BEST DECISION EVER.)
How many parties and sparkling crowns does one boy need?! My god, throw in a fragrance line and a penchant for white suits, and he would be Diddy. In truth, though, this was all just a covert excuse for me to ingest as many frosting-topped baked goods as possible, so...WIN.
Lo's birthday is on Saturday, so basically, it's an orgy of sprinkles around here lately. Not that I'm complaining at ALL, and FYI, "Orgy of Sprinkles" is going to be my band's next hit single. You heard it here first.
And speaking of the kids, I must say, I take issue with a few of the books I've been reading them lately. My problems with Love You Forever are well-documented in my guest post on Loralee's site. (In a nutshell: It's a sweet story of the eternal love between a mother and her baby, but I draw the line when said mother is a thousand million years old and is creeping into her adult son's bedroom VIA A LADDER to sing him a lullaby while he's sleeping, Creepy Edward Cullen-style.)
Also irksome is The Giving Tree. STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME, I AM A PERSON, DAMMIT. For whatever reason, I never read this one as a kid, and when T pulled it off the bookshelf one night, I was appalled by the story. It centers around a little boy who keeps making demands of this tree. "She" provides a strong branch so he can build a swing, shade, apples to sell, etc. The tree happily gives the boy everything he asks for, since she loves the boy. The boy's demands escalate as he grows older, until finally, the boy asks the tree if he can cut her down for wood, so he can make a boat.
The boy sails off, and returns years later as an old man, with his liver-spotted old man hand out, asking the tree for something else, and finally, the tree (which is now just a stump, since HE CUT HER DOWN) says "I have nothing left to give you." The boy asks for a quiet place to sit, and the tree provides that. The End.
I mean, I know some people like the story. And perhaps the book can be taken as some sort of psychological inkblot test, where you make your own interpretations. If so,then I find it DEPRESSING AS HELL, and eerily reminiscent of a dysfunctional relationship. Do with that what you will.
Last in the Creepy Book Lineup is We're Going On a Bear Hunt, with which the kids have recently fallen in deep, mad love. Now, we have the pop-up version, which I must say, is great, but the story, man. THE STORY. Perhaps it's just me Being A Mom, but every time I read it, I'm all enthusiastic and excited inflection-y, but inside, I'm all, "Who IS this asshole father who takes his tiny children--including an infant-- on a real bear hunt? Like, for actual bears? For real? Is that tall blond female his daughter or his wife? It's disturbing me that I can't tell. Why are they not wearing boots while tramping through the mud? Ditto the river? And A SNOWSTORM? Are you fucking kidding me? Why must they go through it? Can they not turn back? And OMFG, they are now face-to-face with an actual bear, what is wrong with this man?"
Sigh...this is totally a sign I should introduce more TV into their lives, right?
Oh, wait. Scratch that. WONDER PETS. DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED.
(I am, by the way, thankful that my kids love books. And they do have other favorites which don't bother me. Those just aren't as much fun to write about.)