the pieces of my life

Let’s start by saying there was no cake. Yes, last Saturday was my birthday. No, there was no cake.

At lunch.
Me: I’m ready for cake!
Adam: Uh, there is no cake.
Me: What do you mean?
Adam: We were supposed to leave for Portsmouth right after breakfast! So there wouldn’t have been time for cake! Did you want cake for breakfast?
Me, to Doodles: Would Mommy want cake at breakfast?
Doodles: Yes.
Me, to Pie: Do you think Mommy would eat cake at breakfast?
Pie: Yes!
Me, to Adam: Your kids know me well.
Adam: grumble, grumble, grumble.

So, no cake. What did I get instead? Why, I got Adam’s 20th high school reunion! Which I will blog about shortly….

Doodles, as security, checked names against the guest list and handed out all-access passes.

Can I get a “Whoo hoo”? Whoo hoo! The birthday party season has ended and I survived. Guitar-shaped cake. Check. Gold rock ‘n’ roll cuffs. Check. Backstage passes for everyone. Check. Freeze dance, pin-the-sunglasses on the rock star, limbo. Check. Beers consumed. Check. Thank you notes all written. Check. I am DONE!

Of course, it all finished just in time. Because we head full-speed into fall. While everyone else has been in school for weeks now, Doodles starts second grade this Wednesday. Rosh Hashanah is Thursday. Pie starts the kindergarten the following Monday, and has three kindergarten events between now and then. Hebrew school for both starts next Sunday. Between the four of us, we have three parties to attend next weekend.

Rock Star Pie with a Rock Star Buddy

Anyone wondering how I’m going to cook for Rosh Hashanah? The same way I cooked for today’s party. By taking my pans and batter across the street to Beetle’s house. Because, yes, we are now on week nine of no oven. Oh, the part came in. The guys came. And surprise, surprise, it was the motherboard. Hmmm, didn’t someone say that already? Like last July 3? So I’m waiting, waiting, waiting….

In the meantime, the stage has shut down, the little rock stars are fast asleep, and I’m going to–shocking, I know–open a bottle of wine.

Pinata booty

Rock Star Cake

The seven-year-old boy

Me: So what’s today?

Doodles: My birthday.

Me: Are you sure?

Doodles: Yes.

Me: How can you tell?

Doodles: Because I got presents and I got streamers on my door. I have stuff written on my windows. And I get to choose what I want.

Me: And what do you want?

Doodles: A lot of stuff.

Me: Like what?

Doodles: A DS.

Me: Do you really think you’re getting a DS?

Doodles: No.

Me: So then what do you want that you will get?

Doodles: Let’s see. A Nerf gun.

Me: Really?

Doodles: Yes!

Me: It’s going to be a disappointing birthday. What do you like to do these days?

Doodles: Suck my finger.

Me: Still?

Doodles: Yes.

Me: I thought you were trying to quit.

Doodles: But I like it. I like to do my awesome dance. Play Club Penguin. I like reading everything.

Me: What are your favorite books?

Doodles: Diary of a Wimpy Kid books. Geronimo Stilton.

Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?

Doodles: Let’s see. A ballerina. Ha ha. Just kidding. I don’t know.

Me: What are you looking forward to in second grade?

Doodles: Let’s see. Studying Japan. Getting my own desk. Having my own supplies.

Me: Any grand pronouncements?

Doodles: Nope.

Me: Anything else to say?

Doodles: Everybody who reads this must jump up and down for the whole day.

Me: Really?

Doodles: Really.

Tonight is my last night with a six-year-old boy. And my last few days with a four-year-old girl. I’ve told them both they could do whatever they want on their birthdays.

The girl gave it lots of thought. “I want to go to the Res. And if it’s rainy, then I want to go see the fashion show at the MFA. Or maybe see a movie! I think MFA and then if there’s time, go see a movie.”

The boy also gave it some thought. “What’s it going to be?” I asked. “We could go to the Res, head to the Museum of Science, go to the movies, do whatever you’d like.”

He came up with his plan a couple of days ago. “I know what I want to do. I want to stay home and play Wii all day. And stay in my pajamas until dinner time.” Done.

Both of them have discovered Chicken Yakitori, so on both Monday and Wednesday we are headed to the only Asian restaurant in town that serves Chicken Yakitori. But I said to them both, “You can pick what you have for breakfast and lunch, too.”

Pie thinks. “Um, I want Chicken Yakitori for dinner, and I want… only fruits and vegetables for breakfast and lunch!”

“Okay,” I say. “What do you want, Doodles?”

“Hmm,” he starts. “Let’s see. For breakfast I want hot dogs. For lunch, I’d like a steak with barbecue sauce. And Chicken Yakitori, or course, for dinner.”

I told him I’d be willing to compromise. Eggs and bacon for breakfast. I pointed out that I really am not a great griller of steaks, and that I don’t think I could do one justice, so he agreed to hamburgers for lunch. A return to Camp Carnivore for the boy.

My babies. All grown up and becoming their own people. Yikes.

The girl, this morning: Mommy! Happy birthday! I’m going to be extra nice to you today! And we can do whatever you want. What do you want to do?

Me: Well–

The girl: I’ll even go to the Res [the town Reservoir] with you!

Me: I’m not sure about that. I promised your brother he could skateboard at the park this morning. And then we need to wait for the piano to be delivered [a friend very kindly gave us their old piano]. Then we’ll see.

The girl: Then we’ll go to the Res?

Me: Then we’ll see.

—–

A couple of hours later.

The girl: Do you want to go to the Res now?

Me: No.

—–

The girl: So… What do you want to do today.

Me: I’d love to take a nap.

The girl: Or… we could go to the Res!

—–

Fifteen minutes later. A complete meltdown over the fact that her apples were slightly red.

Me: I thought you were going to be extra nice to me today.

The girl: I never said that!

—–

Fifteen minutes later.

Me: I need to run to the drugstore to get something.

The girl: We could walk! And then we could just go to the Res!

Me: It’s too hot to walk and we need to get back for your brother.

—-

The girl, with a deep sigh: I really wish I could go to the Res today.

—-

Driving back home.

The girl: Wow, it’s hot. We really should do something to cool off. Hey! Do you know what? The Res can cool you off! A nice cool swim in the Res!

Me: You know what else will cool you off? Our air-conditioned home. It’s nice and cool.

The girl: Or the Res! Which would you rather do?

Me: Air-conditioned home.

—–

At home.

The girl: So… what do you want to do today?

Me: I know where you’re going with this. And it’s not going to work.

At that moment the phone rings. It’s Adam.

Me: Here, tell Daddy what you want.

The girl: No. I’m not going to say it.

—–

The girl: I’m okay that if we go to the Res, Doodles will get to swim twice today and I only go once. So, Mommy, what do you want to do today?

—–

Sigh. I’m going to put on my bathing suit. Happy freakin’ birthday to me.

Today is the day of the birthday parties: Doodles is going Mad Scientist; Pie is going Piggy Party.

Adam: What would you like from the bagel store?
Pie: I want a bagel with egg and bacon on the side. I need bacon because I’m having a piggy party!
Doodles: Bacon is made out of pig!
Pie: I know! So I need to eat bacon today! For my piggy party, I need to eat bacon!

I hope she’s not disappointed when I don’t serve bacon today at the actual party to her entirely Jewish guest list (she goes to a Jewish preschool).

Tomorrow is the Day of the Birthdays. While both of their actual birthdays were two weeks/a week and a half ago, most of their friends return to town this weekend from Summer, so this weekend is the parties (our town is obscenely late in starting school; per Facebook, most of my friends’ kids started going back to school a month ago. Doodles starts this coming Thursday; Pie the Monday after that).

Pie is obsessed. First there are the logistics. “I get to eat the face of the pig” (it’s a piggy party). Um, it’s a big face. And you have a little tummy. Well, not little. But littler than that face (side note: I expressed concern about both my kids BMI to the doc this week–in opposite directions. Doodles too underweight; Pie unsure about her weight. She told me that Doodles is actually quite height-weight proportionate–he’s about 4th percentile for height and just under 10th for weight–and that Pie is fine. She said, and I quote, “I have never seen a breastfed child become obese.” So yea child who could not be weaned!).

And then there’s the “I don’t want any six year olds at my party.”
Me: That’s fine. But then you can’t go to Doodles’s party.
Pie: [honestly bewildered] Why not?

And of course the fashion. For their birthdays, they each received T-shirts tied into their interests. Pie got one with pigs on it; Doodles got a mad scientist T-shirt.
Pie: Can I wear my kitty skirt tomorrow?
Me: You can wear whatever you want. But you’ll be wearing your piggy shirt and hat?
Pie: Yes!
Me: A solid pink skirt might go best.
Pie: I want to wear the kitty skirt.
Me: That’s fine, then.
Pie: It has pink in it so it’ll go.
Me: That’s great. Wear your kitty skirt.
Pie, thinking for a moment, then says: Well, maybe I’ll wear the kitty skirt to Doodles’s party and I’ll wear a plain skirt to mine.
Me: The parties are on the same day.
Pie: I know.
Me: You’re going to change outfits between parties?
Pie, giving me a “duh” look: Of course!

That girl is four years old. And I’m already soooo out of my league!

Me: What’s today?
Pie: My birthday!
Me: How old are you?
Pie: Four.
Me: That’s pretty old. What can you do when you’re four that you can’t do when you’re three.
Pie: I can stay up late.
Me: What else?
Pie: I can play.
Me: You couldn’t do that when you were three?
Pie: I could! What couldn’t I do when I was three? I couldn’t go into kindergarten.
Me: Can you go in now that you’re four?
Pie: No.
Me: What did you do today?
Pie: I went to gymnastics camp. I had lots of fun. I even got to be leader and sometimes I could be first. That’s all.
Me: We didn’t do anything after camp?
Pie: Went to the Res! And that’s all.
Me: What’s your favorite thing to do?
Pie: To play my Polly Pockets.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Pie: A mommy.
Me: Anything else you want to be?
Pie: That’s all I want to be.
Me: Are you going to be a mommy who works?
Pie: Yeah. But I work out of the house.
Me: What kind of work will you do?
Pie: Housework.
Me: Outside of the house?
Pie: Inside the house.
Me: What work will you do outside of the house?
Pie: I will plant the garden. And water stuff. I can water dirt.
Me: Who’s gonna make the money?
Pie: I will.
Me: How?
Pie: How will I make money is I’ll find a money thing and then I’m going to call someone and ask if it’s money and then I’ll try getting it and then I’ll get some money out of the printer. And that’s all.
Me: You’re all done with the interview?
Pie: Uh huh. Can you read me last year’s one?
Me: Any grand pronouncements first?
Pie: What?
Me: Any big statements?
Pie: I want to be the biggest one in the whole universe of America.
Me: Happy Birthday, Sweetie Pie.

Me: So what’s today?
Doodles: Sunday.
Me: Any significance to it?
Doodles: No.
Me: Nothing at all special about today?
Doodles: I got lots of presents.
Me: How come?
Doodles: Because it was my birthday.
Me: Oh, so it was special?
Doodles: Yeah.
Me: How old are you?
Doodles: Six!
Me: That’s pretty old. How did you get to be six?
Doodles: It’s my birthday today, so I am six.
Me: What’s different about six than five?
Doodles: Six you’re going into first grade and five you’re going into kindergarten. Is the interview over?
Me: Not yet. Any other differences?
Doodles: No.
Me: Six is the same as five?
Doodles: Sort of.
Me: What’s your favorite thing to do these days.
Doodles: Be a spy.
Me: Anything else?
Doodles: Nope.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Doodles: A spy.
Me: And grand pronouncements for the world?
Doodles: What?
Me: Any grand pronouncements?
Doodles: I wish everything was for free.
Me: Why?
Doodles: So people could just get what they want and poor people would be able to buy stuff. Is it done now?
Me: Yes. Happy Birthday, Baby.

Me: What’s today?
Pie: My birthday!
Me: How are you going to celebrate?
P: With Mommy. And Daddy.
Me: Actually, Daddy has to go to work.
P: Oh. Why? Why does he have to go to work?
Me: That’s how he earns a living.
P: Did Daddy go to work on Doodles birthday?
Me: Doodles birthday was on a Saturday. Today is Monday. Monday is a work day.
P: Monday’s a work day?
Me: Who else will you celebrate with?
P: I don’t know. I need you to tell me. Can you tell me, Mommy?
Me: Do you think you’ll celebrate with Doodles?
P: Yeah. With Doodles.
Me: Where are we going this morning?
P: We’re going to the… what? what? Can you tell me where we’re going? Oh! Can we take Jasmine’s car to the museum? When I see Jasmine can she say Happy Birthday to me?
ME: I’m sure she’ll say happy birthday to you.
P: Can Jasmine come to my actual birthday?
Me: So someone else is coming today?
P: So who is it?
Me: You just said!
P: Jasmine!!
Me: And where are we going?
P: To the museum. Can we go in Jasmine’s car so we can go to the museum?
Me: I’m afraid not.
P: But I want to.
Me: Her car’s not big enough. Plus, we might decide to take Jasmine with us even after her daddy has to go. Do you want to go out for lunch?
P: Yeah.
Me: How old are you?
P: Six and a half.
Me: Are you sure? If you’re six and a half, are you going into first grade?
P: Yes, I’m going into first grade and I’m six and a half.
Me: So you’re older than Doodles? ‘Cause he’s only five.
P: I’m older than Doodles.
Me: How old are you really?
P: Two and a half.
Me: But today’s your birthday. Let me see your fingers. How many fingers are you? Whoop! One more finger! How did you get to be three?
P: I don’t know.
Me: Where did you come from?
P: Mommy’s belly.
Me: What’s the best thing about three.
P: I like my ownself. And I like my presents. And I want kids to come to my actual birthday.
Me: You already had a big party. Today’s for us and Jasmine. What do you like to do?
P: Move, doing movement. Play with Jasmine! I like dress-up shoes.
Me: Anything else you’d like to say as a big three year old?
P: No.
Me: All done?
P: [nods]
Me: Happy Birthday, Sweetie.