Impending Birthday

When I was a little girl, birthday parties typically consisted of my mom baking a cake and an assortment of aunts, uncles and cousins descending on our home with gifts or, as I got older, cards with some cash in them. Well, as any of you who have children old enough to have "friend" parties know, birthdays have turned into an extravaganza in many cases.

I don't really know why this has happened but it has. I think parents are to blame because, really, most little kids are satisfied with so very little. Do we try to live vicariously through our children by creating these lavish parties? Or, are we just in pissing contests with the other parents we know, trying to show what we have? That is more my theory and, believe me, I am as guilty as the next person at partaking in this overblown birthday bonanza business. Not to mention the fact that parties are time-consuming, expensive and, well, a pain in the arse.

We only had family parties until Her Highness turned five and then we had her first "real" party. Because she has a December birthday, we rented a local gymnasium and an inflatable slide. We invited all the children in the world that we knew in order to justify this expense. It was a hit! The following year, I organized a Princess Party for about eight six year-olds in which they all came dressed in costume and ate finger foods and crafted. Last year, we took about 15 kids bowling.

This year, however, I am scaling back. Way back. We are inviting cousins and the neighbors. And that is it. Nothing too fancy compared to many of the parties Her Highness has attended in the last year. One party she went to involved a trip to the salon, movies and dinner out at a steak place. She got her nails done and an up 'do. Another time she was taken to Build-A-Bear and lunch. All great parties but at some point the line has to be drawn. I am drawing it here and now. This year, we are having cake, food and a craft; maybe some karaoke because our theme, after all, is Hannah Montana.

With HH's birthday falling only sixteen days before Christmas, I have always struggled with inviting people to parties because of the financial crunch so many experience at this time of year. I have tried the "no gifts" strategy but it was unsuccessful, as I was certain it would be. (There is no way I could attend or send my child to a party without a gift.) And this year, with gas prices what they are and the economy in my area so sluggish, I just couldn't ask another person to bring a present to my daughter who is in need of absolutely nothing but some new socks.

So, I am going against the grain. Being a rebel. I will not be inviting your kid to my kid's party. Don't worry. We have lots of Barbies, too many Bratz and oodles of Littlest Pet Shops. You, dear friends, are off the hook this year. Take your money and buy a gift for a needy child because the kid who lives with me is far, far from needy.

The Magic School Bus

It arrived this morning at 7:57AM. The big, yellow bus came and whisked Her Highness away for her first day of second grade. She awoke at 7:00 to the smell of blueberry muffins and the sound of a sneezing Conqueror. She was happy and excited to go to school. I was excited for her!

She and I went to meet the teacher, as I mentioned here, on Monday night and HH was thrilled that, gasp, she was the very teacher she wanted!? Yay! And, it gets even more exciting, she has a (drumroll please. I know the suspense is killing you but you have to wait just a few more nanoseconds to hear what my seven-year old second grader is thrilled to have) desk! HH has left behind the baby-ish tables of Pre-K, Kindergarten and 1st grade. She. Now. Has. Her. Own. Desk! (Did you feel the earth move just a little around 6:00 Monday evening?) This is a tremendously big step for those of you who are too out of touch with your own inner second grader. Honest.

I remember second grade. Mrs. Huggins was my teacher. She was so scary looking; she had very, very long hair and wore it pulled back in a tight and rather severe looking bun. Despite her witch-like appearance (hey, I was in 2nd grade!), she was a wonderful teacher. I loved her! She was a nature-lover and took our class on long walks in the woods behind the high school. She had eaten rattle snake and brought her camos and hunting rifle to school during deer gun season so she could hunt in those same woods after class (remember, this is pre-Columbine, Jonesboro and the like). We prayed each day before entering the cafeteria. Second grade was wonderful.

Truthfully, though, I loved school. I remember my very first day of kindergarten, which was also my first school bus ride. My mom and grandma (whom we were staying with at the time for some reason not worth mentioning) were going to walk me to the end of the driveway in their (gasp!) bathrobes and I wouldn't allow it. No way, Jose! I didn't want the older kids to see my terribly uncool mom and granny. I was way to cool for that, even at five years old.

HH loves school, too. She woke last night nervous and excited and had trouble going back to sleep; I did this every year of school- even high school. She was excited to wear her new clothes, shoes, undies and backpack. I loved that, too, as a little girl. The first day was always so exciting! The beginning of a whole new year of learning and new friends and growth.

I hope she has a great day!

Scouting: Redneck Style

Her Highness is a Brownie. I was a Brownie and so was my mom. I remember really digging the times after school when we crafted, sang songs about friendship, snacked and giggled. So, when I learned last fall that there was a troop that she could join, I jumped on the opportunity.

I discovered this particular troop through a mom of a fellow soccer player on HH's team last year and she raved about the troop. She thought the leader was nice and was, overall, pleased with everything that went on. So, because I thought this mom was a nice person, I signed HH up and convinced my neighbor to sign Princess W up, too.

The first meeting was okay. I was alarmed to discover that the leader was a girl I went to high school with and I remembered something about her family living in a school bus. Yes, you did read that correctly. They. Lived. In. A. Bus. Okay, so I brushed that aside, because, hey, my parents weren't exactly model citizens and I don't want to be judged based on their past acts, right? I mean, she was just a kid. So...

The next meeting, another person from my high school turns up. Her name was Wednesday Smith and she was a bit of a hood but since I was trying to be the open-minded mom, I tried to forget that she hung out at the square near my school smoking with all the other scanks. I didn't remind them that we all went to high school together because, uh, my reputation as something of a know-it-all, snob, b. proceeded me, too. So, I am being friendly and nice and then Wednesday turns and smiles at another child sitting near me. She! Had! No! Teeth!

Now, I am only thirty-two. She was a grade ahead of me. This is 2007 (2006, last fall). C'mon, sweetie, ever hear of a dentist??? I had the strongest desire to grab HH and PW and run, not looking back. The girl who used to live in a bus and the woman with no teeth are to be role models for my child? EEEKKK!

Of course, I don't run. How could I? So, I stayed against my better judgment. And it has all been down hill since then.

Some of the highlights- I mean, lowlights:
Our troop was in an annual parade in our small town that celebrates Santa coming to town and the girl were dressed like gingerbread kids. It was not pretty. They looked cute until one of the other moms rubbed foundation for, uh, people of color all over their faces. That made them just look like little dirty-faced poor kids.

We all met at the leader's home to get ready for the parade. She lives in a pretty nice neighborhood; nothing special but nice. That is until her family moved in. They had two cars up on blocks in their drive and a note scotch-taped to the front door telling visitors to remove shoes before entering. Inside was worse. We waited in the basement, which doubled as the master bedroom. There were about 11 kitttens running here, there and pissing everywhere. Trash was heaped on stands, the bed was unmade and laundry covered every surface. Wednesday showed up for this and had car trouble so she was standing in the drive, smoking and swearing about what a day it was. Nice.

Another time, the girls were selling cookies at Wal-Mart and our leader was there in shorts and a tee shirt. In February. She also smoked while the girls tried to peddle their thin mints. Swell.

So, my neighbor and I have been avoiding going to scouts all summer. We duck calls. We ignore messages. We have even found another mother willing to start another troop but first we have to quit the one we're in. Gulp. I'm scared of the redneck Brownie leaders.

Home vs. Anywhere

We're having a bit of a problem with Her Highness. She will not play at home. RxMan says this is normal, that he did it, too. That, however, doesn't make me feel any better. His mother, as you know, is a psycho. She went on band trips with him. She chaperoned field trips when he was too old for it to be cool. I've met the woman, if she were my mom, I would stay away, too.

But am I THAT mom? The one who is mean and no one wants to be around? The mom who always yells and complains at friends? Am I the embarrassing mom? Already?!

I try to be cool. I make lunch for them and try to only serve peanut butter once a week. I offer them ice cream after meals. I try to joke and laugh at their riduculously un-funny humor. Sooner or later, though, I get sick of them. They're messy. And loud. And irritating.

That being said, though, I want HH to want to be at home. We spent a small fortune on making a raised playhouse thing with two slides for her. She's been on it maybe 8 times. We have swings. We have an electric scooter. So, what is it?

AAAAHHHH! Seven year olds! And to think, she'll be a teenager in 6 years.... ugh!