Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Lion and tigers and birthdays oh my!

So we celebrated India's birthday on Sunday.  We kept things quiet with just a few family members which was just fine for us.  Ok, I say this out loud but what I am actually thinking in my head is, "Yes!!!! We escaped not having to have a big hoopla with coordinated gift bags and admission fees to some bacteria filled place of snot and merriment that kids love to have birthday parties at these days."

Our choices growing up in Texas were the back of a McDonalds, someones backyard, the park, or the Roller Rink.  Now it is crazy all of the options kids have.  Amusement parks, mini golf, jumpy places, elaborate oversized gerbil play structures, stuff an animal, and even cooking schools.  (Ok, so I kind of secretly like the cooking school concept.  Any place that teaches my kid how to roll sushi so I don't have to on somebody else's dime and floor is just fine with me.)

I know eventually I am going to have to suck it up and do something here in the next month or 2, because Calla now has school friends, and I am not sure quite yet how I am supposed to deal with it.  The reasonable side of me who realizes she lives in a 900 sq. ft. house in the country nowhere near these kids and their parents, says, "Have the party away from your house, where the hell are you going to put all of them anyway?"  The unreasonable part of me who had sour gummy worms and Red Bull today says, "Crap I better start looking on Pinterest for theme ideas now, and if we have nice weather we can do this outside, and I can order decorations from Etsy, and we can make cupcakes, and we can borrow some animals from a friend and we can have a petting zoo in the front yard, and and and...."  My inner Martha demon takes over and off we go.  I'll keep you posted.

Moving back to India.  (The small child, not the large country.)  There were balloons, and an Elmo theme.  When I say theme, we got her 1 Elmo balloon and an Elmo cake with some matching plates and napkins. She wore an Elmo t shirt and we called it good.  Because I know next week she will probably hate Elmo, and move on to Dora or who ever is next in line.  I can't remember.


My Mom and Calla before the party.


My Dad babysitting the Elmo balloon, because God forbid something happen to the Elmo balloon.  (We didn't drug Rusty, he was good...sort of.)


Mattie resting her twat.  No not on the cheap Target pillows.  The Pottery Barn ones of course.

Dave's mom and sister came over as well, but sadly I didn't snap any photos of them.  Everyone else related was at the Bronco game getting their Tebow on.  


"Come on now give me the damn balloon it's my party."
  

"Let's light this bad boy up."


"Um, y'all.... I'm 2 wtf am I supposed to do now cause you lit my cake on fire?" 


Rusty: "I smell cake, just blow out the stinkin candles already so I can eat the CAKE!"

That pretty much sums up the obligatory birthday pics.  Off to crawl into bed because 7 degrees is cold and I am tired.  

Check back in soon.  I have stories about opossums and pointe shoes, but not necessarily together.  

XOXO

4 comments:

  1. Oh, I am all about the in & out, snot filled jumpy castle, someone else cleans up when its over parties, although we have kept it small until the boys turned 4....we did Dylan's 6th bday at home, complete with a bounce house and I will hopefully never have to do that again....waaay to much work for my taste...but then again, Martha & I just aren't that close ;)

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  2. Mel - Martha and I haven't had the greatest relationship lately either. :) Good to know about the bounce house! I am pretty sure we would be the people who end up on the evening news because the bounce house blew away full of kids with all of the wind we have out here! We went to a home party once complete with chocolate fountains, cotton candy and sno cone machines. It was insane, not because of all the stuff, but because of all of the kids and the sugar.

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  3. Telll your mom she looks great and to send me some news as to how she is. I have tried but no response. Love to all of you, Barb

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