Birthday Week: Day One.

I don’t even know where to begin.

All I can say is that Hubs and I survived Birthday Week, with our pulses still intact, and I only drank two Lime-A-Ritas.

They were the tall ones.

But still.

Only two.

We had so much going on this last week, that the days kind of blur together, and there’s simply no way that I can fit it all into a single blog post without using seventeen thousand words, and that’s simply too many.  This might turn out to be the week of the birthday posts here at Jedi Mama, Inc.

On Wednesday, the boy woke up older.

And really, that’s not entirely true, because he didn’t OFFICIALLY turn twelve until 4:47 PM on Wednesday, and Hubs and I never missed an opportunity to tell him that.

We had some presents in the morning, because the boy’s level of Birthday Patience was non-existent, and he was ready to swear off junk food for an entire year in a bargain to get those gifts ripped open before 7:00 that morning.

He has wanted real golf shoes all summer, because apparently golfing in Crocs isn’t as cool as he thought it would be.

Something about no traction.

And now he’s the proud owner of genuine shoes sponsored by the PGA, which are also known as THE MOST EXPENSIVE SHOES THE BOY HAS EVER OWNED.  Thank you, Nike, for knowing that a little boy’s feet grow rapidly, and that shoes bought in August will be too small when the golf course reopens again next April.

The boy also asked for literature, in the form of REAL, LIVE BOOKS.

I know!

I was so proud when he added the titles of three different books to his list of birthday gift dreams, that I rushed out and bought them THAT VERY DAY.  Of course, we’ll see if he actually reads them before his wedding.

And then there was THE BIG GIFT.  We tried to convince the boy that it was a life-sized Barbie doll that he could dress up in ball gowns, but he wasn’t buying it.

We told him it was his own vacuum cleaner, so that he could help with the housework more.  He was unconvinced.

We told him it was a mini-fridge for his college dorm room.  He was actually okay with that, and asked if we’d gotten him any Mountain Dew to put in it.

As it turned out, Mam and Pa had pooled their savings with Hubs and me, and we bought the boy a new set of golf clubs, which he has been pining for all summer long.  He was so excited, he actually whooped and passed out hugs and said, “This is the best gift EVER!”

And then, because a boy should never allow dust to collect on his clubs, we gathered the troops, and the boy headed out for a 9:45 tee time that morning.  Cousin B, Eli and Enzo were plum thrilled to hit the golf course with the boy to help him celebrate his birthday.

Hubs and I dropped the four boys off at the golf course, and we met them back there, after they’d played nine holes.

Only we found out that they had just made it through six holes of golf.


Sometimes a young boy is easily distracted from golfing at the water trap.

No matter.

They had the very best time golfing together.  When they made it back to the clubhouse, they were all hot and sweaty and red-faced and deliriously happy.  They were laughing and telling stories and bonded together by friendship.

And they were also VERY thirsty.

I let them all hit the soda hard, because of IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!  IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!

Hubs and I bought the four boys cheeseburgers, and we all sat around and laughed and talked and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, and we gave thanks that the boy has such terrific friends (and cousins!) in his life.

Later that afternoon, in the Suburban, the boy told me, “Mom, that was the most perfect birthday morning EVER!  I got new clubs and shoes, and I got to go golfing with them!”

That night, we had homemade tacos with my family, because that is what the boy requested for dinner.  Honestly, right next to candy, his favorite food is a good taco.

And then we made S’Mores, because the boy adores them.  We had to make them indoors, because with the drought, Small Town’s current fire restrictions state YOU WILL SIT IN THE DUNGEON OF A CASTLE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY UNTIL YOUR 100th BIRTHDAY IF YOU SO MUCH AS BRING A PACK OF MATCHES OUTSIDE.  DON’T EVEN ASK WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU LIGHT SOMETHING UP!

The boy kept saying, “You take the ‘mallow.  You put the ‘mallow on the graham.”  And then Hubs would say, “You’re killing me, Smalls.”

We are easily entertained.

Little Cousin H was at our house for dinner, too.  H is not incredibly fond of Thing 2 yet.  Thing 2’s LOUD PERSONALITY overwhelms her quiet, ladylike personality a bit too much at the moment.

Sometimes Thing 2 shouts so loud, Little H just gives him a nice push to the head to get him away from her.

I suspect that this was only the first of MANY pushes to come.  Thing 2 probably had it coming.

Cousin K was ecstatic to show off HIS VERY LOOSE TOOTH!  The tooth that IS GOING TO COME OUT ANY DAY NOW!  The tooth that IS GOING TO MAKE HIM RICH WITH MONEY FROM THE FAIRIES!  The boy offered to yank it clean out of his mouth for him, and K said, “No way!  That’ll hurt!”  Apparently he can wait a while for the windfall that is going to be bestowed on him by glittery fairies.

After everyone left, and the kitchen was put back in order, I snuggled with the boy and told him that I couldn’t believe it had been twelve years since he came into our lives.

Twelve very blessed years.

And then we all went to bed, because we had three more days of birthday excitement to get through, but y’all will have to wait until tomorrow for the pictures.  Remember:  A birthday around here is a marathon; it isn’t a sprint.

Happy Sunday night, people.

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