Well, I don’t think I need to tell y’all that we had quite the celebration on Friday. The day started with P and me singing to Caroline as she pulled back the covers and examined her feet. It seems she needed to see if they had gotten bigger in light of her new status as a 4 year old. Those tiny 3 year old feet just weren’t going to cut it anymore. Age 4 requires new, big feet. She also felt certain she had gained 10 pounds overnight, which proves there is actually an age when that kind of news excites a female, as opposed to sending her spiraling downward in a brownie-fueled depression.
Not too many 30-somethings wish for a 10 pound weight gain as they blow out the candles on their birthday cake. Unless of course, the 10 pounds is in the form of a new diamond ring or something like that.
First thing out of bed she ran to the kitchen to open the present from us. Please note the look in her eyes. She maintained that look of sheer raw energy fueled by anticipation and sugar for the rest of the day.
P left for work and so I asked the birthday girl what she’d like for breakfast. Pancakes. Blueberry pancakes. Blueberry pancakes in the shape of a gingerbread man. Apparently, she thought perhaps I had morphed into Martha Stewart during the night. If I had taken the time to take a picture of the purple batter that I eventually formed into a decapitated gingerbread man, you would know for sure that somewhere Martha Stewart wept for my creative culinary future.
I presented my creation to Caroline, she looked at it for a moment and said, “That is one ugly pancake.” Don’t I know it, sister, don’t I know it. However, the dogs were not as discriminating. Remember the scene in “Coalminer’s Daughter” where Doo takes the dinner Loretta fixed and whistles for the dogs? It was a little piece of cinematic re-enactment history here on Friday morning.
Her party started at 3 p.m. so I spent the rest of the day answering the question, “Is it time for my party, yet? Is it time? When will it be time for my party? IS IT TIME YET??” until I finally took two Valium and went back to bed.
Oh, I’m kidding. I continued to answer her until it was FINALLY time for the party and we headed up to the pool to get everything set up. My prayers had been answered and it didn’t rain, even though the forecast called for afternoon showers. P asked me what my backup plan was and I really had no answer other than the possibility of taking tequila shots and letting 4 year olds take over the interior of my home while I sat in a corner and cried.
I think everyone had a great time. They swam, ate cake and beat the unicorn piñata senseless so that they could get all the candy. It was a little bit of a mob mentality as they went after that poor unicorn, but 4 year olds take their candy very seriously. Don’t get in their way…especially if you’re made of papier mache. I’d been a little concerned about whether or not Caroline would be okay with the destruction of the unicorn since she had spent the last week carrying him around and wanting to sleep with him in her bed, but I underestimated her enthusiasm for sugar even if it meant placing her beloved mythical creature in harm’s way.
You have to admire a man that can swing at a pinata while jauntily wearing a Little Mermaid tiara. It’s the perfect combination of style and grace.
After the sugar high from eating all the icing began to subside, the party guests began to head home.? Caroline was thrilled with all her presents and immediately wanted to make snow cones with her new Snoopy Sno-Cone maker. I told her it was too late and promised we’d make them the next day.
Guess who was making Snoopy Sno-Cones at 7 a.m. Saturday morning? Oh yes ma’am, the mama without enough intellect to realize that the “next day” means 7 a.m. Nothing starts the day better than grape sugar poured over ice and, for the second morning in a row, my child started the day with some sort of purple breakfast food. That is a serious nutritional achievement.
And on another note, let me tell y’all, if you’re looking for some kind of workout for your forearms, the Snoopy Sno-Cone Maker may be just the ticket. I didn’t even have a Dixie cup full of shaved ice and my arms were burning with the heat of 100 suns. I’ll be shopping for some shirts with 3/4 length sleeves just to show off my new forearm muscle definition.
Caroline also received some Polly Pockets paraphernalia and, as she opened it, I felt this sense of dread realizing these tiny, little pieces of marketing genius were now, irrevocably, a part of our lives. However, after she spent 2 hours Saturday morning playing quietly with all her new Polly Pocket treasures (2 hours which I may or may not have spent going back to sleep on the couch) I realized that Madison Avenue is brilliant in its realization that, for whatever reason, little girls like to play with rubber shoes that are invisible to the naked eye.
Here is the birthday girl wearing one of her new princess outfits. She had it on all day and even wore it to dinner. She was a little overdressed for pizza but didn’t seem all that concerned about it.
Friday night as she went to sleep, I asked her what her favorite part of the day had been. She looked at me with sleepy eyes and said, “Being 4. That’s the best part of the whole day.” Lucky for her, being 4 will last a whole year which, I guarantee, is longer than any of the Polly Pockets stuff is going to last.