hurray for birthdays!

We just finished celebrating Layla's 7th birthday. I am exhausted! Most people have a birthday for a day or 2, or even a week, but we have birthday extravaganzas around here. It's my fault, completely, since I am a birthday princess, but I am good enough to let everyone enjoy the same level of celebrating, so I am kind and fair and just as a ruler. (and I expect a full month of celebrating my own birthday, which is coming up quickly, in case you need to start getting ready for it)
The festivities actually started about a day before her birthday, Maggie and I took roses and cupcakes and Tinkerbell napkins to her art class, so she could experience the whole class birthday love thing (plus then I seriously look like about the coolest mama ever-right?) On her actual birthday we decided to take the day off from school (duh-it was a birthday!) and made special fancy African pastries for breakfast (we are learning about Africa, and got the recipe from a friend who is currently living there). We then got all glammed up and went outside, on this rare dry day in January, for a photo shoot. It went very well, 7 year olds LOVE to ham it up for the camera. (4 and a half year olds really enjoy trying to sabotage the entire effort) Next on the list was lunch out with Daddy and then off to see the latest chipmunk movie. (got great reviews from both girls, who think the squeaky singing of the animated rodents is hilarious!) As soon as the movie was over, we rushed home to tidy up a bit and pick up Alan, then we headed over to Sushi Tsunami for her birthday dinner. Some really good friends were able to meet us and we had a great time, the birthday girl was very pleased. Layla had chosen a 7 layer pound cake and dark chocolate torte from a fancy local bakery for her birthday cake, and we all enjoyed it very much. (second time we sang happy birthday, just incase you are keeping track)
The next day was Friday and Alan brought Layla's BFF Caity home with him from work to stay the weekend. We had a great dinner of pizza and lemonade and craft time. (I am getting tired-thankfully, no singing today)
Saturday started early. 3 girls is a lot of girls. The morning started with some kind of argument, someones feelings being hurt, (can't remember details) and lots of whining and loud talking and high pitch sounds of all sorts, being thrown around by all. It is then that I had my best idea ever. (later proven to not be my best idea ever, but at the time, I was proud and clever) We would go to Chuck E Cheese, where a kid can be a kid, and run around and yell and all that great stuff without making me upset. (right-this is a great idea!) We get to Chuck's place around 11:15 or so, and amazingly, I was not the only adult to have had this thought today. There were about 3000 (give or take) assorted strangers there, ALL running around and yelling and jumping and whatnot. (at this point I start to rethink my brilliant idea) They give us a romantic table for 2 and we settle in and the girls take off. We leave about an hour and a half later so we can go home and eat left over pizza (oh how I love irony) and rest briefly before the birthday party starts. (that's right, now we have a birthday party)
For the birthday event we went to a pottery studio so the kids could paint tiles. It went really well, everyone was pleased, the tiles turned out great (I think, I still have to pick them up) and with happy faces (after treating both diabetics for low blood sugars) we headed next door to an ice cream shop so the guests could enjoy our special birthday "build your own ice cream sundae bar"!! It was really amazing. The ice cream is hand made with all natural goodness and local products when ever it is an option. (can't wait to go back here) The kids got to choose a flavor of ice cream out of about a dozen flavors and then they brought out about a dozen topping options and squirt bottles of chocolate sauce and whipped cream. We were having a double party with our friend Stella, so the birthday girls got a candle in their scoop while we (once again) sang happy birthday. It was so exciting to see all the toppings, and open presents, and get the birthday song AGAIN, that Layla wasn't paying very much attention to things, she was just so absorbed in the festivities. This is when the candle caught her hair on fire. true story. Luckily it was just a little piece, and the flame went out and it just fizzled and singed a bit. She finger combed the burnt bits out, we laughed, and then enjoyed ice cream.
We came home and the girls sang karaoke all night. We took Caity to her Grandma the next afternoon (after more karaoke), and then ended the day with a trip to OMSI and a noodle dinner. I love birthdays-they are about my favorite thing, but the freaking birthday song can kiss my grits. I am not a singer (without any booze in me) and the dang song is so distracting Layla almost lost her hairdo this time.
My birthday is March first but I think I am planning a celebration mid February-that should give me just about enough time to get back into birthday mode. (no singing required)

cheese

I think I have a crush on my dentist. This tells me a couple of things about myself, 1) that I am a masochist (on account of my acute dentist-phobia), and 2) that I don't get out enough.
I had a date, erm, appointment, this morning, here is how it went down: I get there and sign in, and sit down in the lobby and get to read a current people magazine. (ok, well it was a few weeks old, there was a current one, but who cares about Tiger Woods?!) This morning is off to a pretty good start already I'd say-no kids, a tabloid in a quiet lobby, the only thing that would have made it better is if I had a coffee in my hand, and this were the waiting room of a day spa. (ok not really, but as I have already told you-I don't get out much) I get half way through reading about Brittany Spears' recent trip to Bermuda and her current manager/boy toy/baby daddy, and am rudely interrupted by my name being called. ug. I hate the dentist.
I toss the magazine all nonchalant like I am superman, and not at all intimidated by the big plastic covered chairs, and minions wandering around in white coats and medical masks. (seriously-what IS this place?) I have been going to this dentist for years, so thankfully they are well aware of my anxiety and try their very best to be gentle and comforting whilst picking and probing the inner depths of my face. I clench my fists and ram them into my pockets, while the hygienist goes about her business of polishing and plaque removal, all the while I am just waiting for the minute I can get my lips around "Mr. Thirsty", which signals the near end of my torture. Today I tell her my teeth have been abnormally sensitive, so she goes really easy on me (hallelujah!), she praises me on my veritably non existent "build up" (I think she is just trying to humor me since I look like I may burst into tears at any moment) and retracts the giant spot light in record time.
Enter Dr. Paul. Dr Paul is a man who is around Alan's age, balding, and has a mouth full of braces. He is the quietest person I have ever experienced. I sometimes think he may be void of any emotion whatsoever (he IS a dentist after all). He only uses words when it is absolutely necessary. Mostly he just hangs out in my mouth, then walks around the back of the chair, takes notes, and mumbles to the friendly hygienist. I am not a fan of this form of (non) communication, so when I go for our "appointments" I ask direct questions which require an answer. It's like a game for me to get him to use as many words as possible, and I get extra points if he cracks a smile.
This morning we got to chat about my teeth, and why they hurt, and how he can (try to) fix it for me. I tried to keep the mood light, (since I was still at the dentist and I could have a mild nervous break down at any second) as we discussed our options. He thought that I should come back in so he could redo the surface of the filling, I thought this was a horrible idea. He smiled a little, then explained how he was just trying to help me (oh, he is smooth). Then I asked what if his grand resurfacing plan didn't work? He replied with an answer, which is a little fuzzy, since he mentioned the word root canal and after that things got a little blurry and he sounded kind of buzzing and intermittent. I came away with the knowledge that I may have to get a gold tooth (which, by the way I am pretty sure comes with a complimentary wrist tattoo and gang membership) and yet another "appointment" with Dr. Paul. I asked him if there was any way I could possibly schedule the root canal on my birthday since he made it sound so awesome. I actually got a small almost audible chuckle on this one. It was like magic. (ok, not really, but I have to psych myself into going back right?)
So, long story short, I am going back next month for phase one of tooth sensitivity training, hopefully it will work, and I can go back to my bi-annual dates with Dr. Paul. I am actually doing pretty well with the impending dental work, Plan B is that if Dr. Paul's smile isn't enough (or the nitrous), I will pop a Valium and have Alan drive me.
Today I am a winner. I survived my dentist appointment, AND I walked away with a fuzzy fake mustache in a tiny egg (from the tower of treats because I am such a good patient). Who's laughing now Dr. Paul?