Owen turned four on March 17th, something which I am still trying to get my head around. He has been four for two weeks now, and even though he has looked like he is four since he was two and a half, I am still entirely in shock. After having attended two birthday parties at a local indoor playground, Owen quickly got the flavor for what it’s like to have a “real” birthday party. Apparently, bagels and OJ followed by cupcakes with immediate family members just isn’t exciting enough after three years in a row. I suppose it doesn’t help that we clone the exact same celebration for Nicholas. So, we made the decision to have a kids’ party for Owen this year, and it’s pretty safe to say that there’s no turning back now. When Kids U told me that the minimum for the party was 18, I had no problem coming up with a list of names. 18 is pretty much the immediate first cousins. Needless to say it was chaotic, but a good time was had by all. One of my friends at work told me (after the fact, of course!) that the rule of thumb with birthday parties is to invite as many guests as the birthday child's age. So, given that, Owen will not be having another birthday party until he's ten. Hope you all had a REALLY good time...
Of course, I had to find some carrot to dangle to entice Owen into earning his party at Kids U, hence the 4 year wellness visit with the pediatrician the day prior to the party. The questions just keep coming, and they are getting more complex. The suspense was killing me. Here’s how it went:
Doctor: Owen, if Daddy is a boy, then Mommy is a … ?
Owen: …. Ummmmmm ….. a ……. GIRL!
Doctor: Now, if you were REALLY cold, what would you do?
Owen: I … would … (stage whisper) try to get a blanket to get a little warm.
Doctor: And if an elephant is BIG, a mouse is …?
Owen: (Leaning in as if telling a secret) Tiny.
Is it terrible that I had to hide my laughter when the nurse put those headphones on Owen and told him to “Beep!” when he heard a noise? He looked like the DJ from those late 80’s TGIF dances at my junior high… And of course it reminded me of Brian Regan's standup on doctor visits in general.
A few weeks ago, we, along with many of our neighbors, lost power for a few days due to the severe storms that came through. The last time we experienced a sustained power outage was in August of 2003. Now, losing power when you’re single is fun, especially in the summer. You just grab whatever’s in the fridge and head out to barbecue it poolside, or you head to the ocean. Drink whatever beer is left before it gets warm. This is not the same scenario when you are married with three children and lose power during the winter, when your lifestyle is so conditioned that you never realized just how much you need electricity. Luckily, we could ignite our stove to boil water and bought some ready-to-feed formula. Even more luckily, we could spend some quality time with our family members who had power! All in all, we went two evenings with no heat, which required dining out, which we never do with the kids, and bundling them up good at bedtime. The boys seemed pretty clueless about the whole no power situation, which I have to say surprised me pleasantly. I was anticipating a lot of whining (more than the usual), but it all worked itself out. Apparently, getting ready by flashlight at 6am is exciting, especially when it's really cold. Considering that several houses in our town were struck by fallen trees, we feel quite fortunate that we only lost our fence and had one of the trees in our back yard uproot. It’s still standing, and we are waiting on the tree company to come out and do its magic.
This afternoon, I braved the mall and took Peter to see the Easter Bunny. As we were standing in the very long line for pictures, I watched as child after child had a meltdown in front of the Easter Bunny and kind of had an existential moment about why we drag our children through these rituals when it is really all about us. Then Peter actually behaved for the Easter Bunny and smiled for the camera, and I forgot those musings altogether. Of course I don’t have that picture here. I got the basic package, no digital. For those of you who read this and want a wallet sized photo of Peter with the Easter Bunny, it’s yours for the asking. Perhaps one might wonder why I didn’t bring all of the children to see the old EB. This would be because I am not a glutton for punishment. Owen made his usual visit to the assisted living today for the Easter egg hunt there, where he got to dance with the EB and give him high fives. Nicholas’ class was still too little to qualify for the “field trip” over to the next building. Considering this, I don’t feel bad about not taking him to the mall. He would have probably climbed the Easter Bunny and removed his costume head (I’m not kidding), or not agreed to sitting in old EB’s lap, or tried to run away as I situated Peter. This is not me employing my vivid imagination – this is a valid prediction of what one can expect from a garden variety two year-old. I just have to remind myself of that. Nicholas will get his basket on Sunday, and he will do the Easter egg hunt at his grandparents’ house, where the yard is securely gated in – thank goodness!
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