Random July Thoughts or....Why I Really Celebrated My Son's First Birthday
by Deb Williams
"We are
what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not
an act but a habit."
Aristotle
Julyish day,
The house is serene because Warren has flown off to get groceries. He feels so useful. He hasn't considered he's referring to the list I wrote, for the meals I planned, buying the food that I will cupboard, fridge and finally prepare and serve or toss.
Abby is HELPING SOMEONE. Not in my house. Why would she help in this house when there are others who really need her help? She’s next door at wee Linsey’s birthday, organizing 1 to 3 year olds around tables of crafts and crap food. When will parents learn that their children WILL NOT REMEMBER THEIR BIRTHDAYS UNTIL THEY ARE 5 or 7 or 13! When I suggested this (screamed it) from the porch, Mrs. Lee looked sorry for me. Or maybe for Abby and Zach.
“Seriously,” I backed up my thesis: “Save your energy and money for the more demanding celebrations like first period parties and haven’t been drunk all week celebrations.”
Abby may be staying away for a while.
For Zach's first birthday, I threw a garlic sausage, perogy centred party for 30 adults. Pots of boiling water, pans of frying bacon and onions. Not a safe place for a newly walking, handle-grabber. I suppose the deep dishes of sour cream would have cooled off major burns. Not food for the nursing, or the nurser, either. Was it to entertain my child? Nope, it was to prove that I had made it through the first year and all three of us were still alive. I hadn’t followed through on any of the nasty life-ending thoughts that had patrolled my mind for the previous 12 months. Might be time for another party.
Physical Activity: Went to the Y for the Free Trial day. Someone smells like they licked themselves all over before they sweated. Could not narrow it down. Do not think I want to.
None of us spoke the same language; just gestured nodded and repeated unrecognizable thoughts louder and louder. Like everyone was conversing with a mentally challenged Irish Setter. Kind of sweet. Except for that smell.
If I go back I’m going to have to figure out the sign up sheet for the cardio machines. Getting kicked off the elliptical is not good for my esteem. Discovered the only stair master that communicates in Sanskrit or Aramaic. Not sure what I weigh but it looked better in a dead language. And there are TVs right on the machine!! Didn’t even notice that I had been sweating for 20 minutes while I solved cold cases.
Food: Really hungry after the gym: Two pounds of sandwich meat with mustard. No carbs.
Want to read more about BIrthday Parties?
Aristotle
Julyish day,
The house is serene because Warren has flown off to get groceries. He feels so useful. He hasn't considered he's referring to the list I wrote, for the meals I planned, buying the food that I will cupboard, fridge and finally prepare and serve or toss.
Abby is HELPING SOMEONE. Not in my house. Why would she help in this house when there are others who really need her help? She’s next door at wee Linsey’s birthday, organizing 1 to 3 year olds around tables of crafts and crap food. When will parents learn that their children WILL NOT REMEMBER THEIR BIRTHDAYS UNTIL THEY ARE 5 or 7 or 13! When I suggested this (screamed it) from the porch, Mrs. Lee looked sorry for me. Or maybe for Abby and Zach.
“Seriously,” I backed up my thesis: “Save your energy and money for the more demanding celebrations like first period parties and haven’t been drunk all week celebrations.”
Abby may be staying away for a while.
For Zach's first birthday, I threw a garlic sausage, perogy centred party for 30 adults. Pots of boiling water, pans of frying bacon and onions. Not a safe place for a newly walking, handle-grabber. I suppose the deep dishes of sour cream would have cooled off major burns. Not food for the nursing, or the nurser, either. Was it to entertain my child? Nope, it was to prove that I had made it through the first year and all three of us were still alive. I hadn’t followed through on any of the nasty life-ending thoughts that had patrolled my mind for the previous 12 months. Might be time for another party.
Physical Activity: Went to the Y for the Free Trial day. Someone smells like they licked themselves all over before they sweated. Could not narrow it down. Do not think I want to.
None of us spoke the same language; just gestured nodded and repeated unrecognizable thoughts louder and louder. Like everyone was conversing with a mentally challenged Irish Setter. Kind of sweet. Except for that smell.
If I go back I’m going to have to figure out the sign up sheet for the cardio machines. Getting kicked off the elliptical is not good for my esteem. Discovered the only stair master that communicates in Sanskrit or Aramaic. Not sure what I weigh but it looked better in a dead language. And there are TVs right on the machine!! Didn’t even notice that I had been sweating for 20 minutes while I solved cold cases.
Food: Really hungry after the gym: Two pounds of sandwich meat with mustard. No carbs.
Want to read more about BIrthday Parties?