Addy's belated cake.
It is 1:29 AM.
There are seven 12 year old boys in my living room.
Some are asleep. The rest are in a heated discussion about MMA and football.
I hope to do some sleeping tonight, too,
but I am thinking that might not happen.
Tessa is curled around my foot because she is scared.
It's her new nightly routine.
She also happens to be awake.
Must be in the DNA.
Adam wanted to have a Nightmare Before Christmas theme for his birthday party, a party that had to be scheduled 2 weeks after the fact. That's what happens when you pop out of a uterus the same week as Thanksgiving (no, Thanksgiving did not pop out of my uterus, too. Work with me here. I'm tired!). We got as far as the invitations (his own design and artwork) and the cake.
I say "Good enough!".
Sometimes frozen taquitos and way too much soda have to be
reasonable substitutes for party favors and carefully planned party games.
I wish I could be the kind of mom that had goodie bags all made up
with the kid's names on them. The mom that made the goodie bags
to coordinate with the rest of the party decor.
Goodie bags make everything better, you know,
even if the party kinda sucks.
It turns out that, instead,
I am the kind of mom that lets 8 boys destroy my living room and watch movies all night.
I am also the kind of mom that will give 'em cold cereal instead of homemade pancakes in the mornin'. I am the chika that hopes I can get the kitchen cleaned up before the parents come to pick up their yawning, crabby-tired boys tomorrow, but I know I am the girl who would rather just shut the kitchen door and sleep in.
Wish me luck.
No, wish me a nap for tomorrow.
(While you're wishing, can you order up someone
to come clean up my kitchen, please? Thanks. I'll leave the door unlocked)
Now you get to play "Where's Waldo" with Jonah.
Art by Adam