not 30.

I typically don't let myself honestly compare myself to other girls. For that habit is a risky little game. A healthy life-guaging amount yes, but not in a beat myself up kind of way. i generally like to make my life's shortcomings known and embrace them like a cheeky sidekick. And it is certainly opposite day of fair to even read Cakies blog around my birthday, because it happens to be right after her birthday. Every year it sets the movie standard of thoughtful gift giving, themed scavenger hunts and romantic adorableness that make kittens look like donkeys. 

Now, I knew what i was getting into when Adam and i got married, and it did not include romantic warm fuzzies. True this: we are in love and compatible and insanely happy to be best friends with benefits everyday. But as i looked down at my birthday breakfast in bed burrito and 3 musketeers bar garnished with secondhand candles that spelled out "hairy", i thought how nice it would be if Cakies husband could coach Adam on how to think about a wife's birthday sooner than 10 minutes before she wakes up. Maybe it's my own birthday karma?? In his defense I am very low maintenance, but next time at least try and spell out less offensive anagram of the leftover "hap birtday" letters. At least.

He's lucky i didn't turn 30 this year. And that his birthday is 3 weeks after mine (so he set his own lame standard). And that he unknowingly ordered me a pair of new camel colored ankle boots that i got a little late, but i forgive him since he has such good taste (wink).

...And also i really like burritos. 

team Boo ♥'s you

better late than...even later

"Hey Late-y"...as in i'm late for most things. Not to be confused with "Lady" which is usually what people think i'm saying when i declare this.

Like how I had Sheamus's party one month late and am just now writing about it. (On Elyott's 5th birthday we had her birthday party in July. Her birthday is in January*) On Sheamus's birthDAY, since it was his "golden birthday", we gave him a golden trophy...naturally. Never mind that it was a baseball player that i scrounged it from a neighbor. He's a sucker for "gold th-wings". (Don't you just want to bite his cute face off when he talks!?)

(birthday "favor" coupons from Elyott)

Ok so a few months ago, one of my overachieving friends (who also, might i add, is never late) threw an amazing Lego party for her 6 year old. Complete with a homemade Lego pinata, Lego themed games, homemade Lego font banners, and custom actual lego piece invitations you have to put together to find out the deets of the party (which sheamus still has displayed proudly on his headboard) It was a perfectionist's dream! You know who you are...Jerkface*.

As his own birthday neared, Sheamus and I talked about what we could do for his party. He hinted that not only wanted his party to be Lego themed, he wanted it to be identical to this one.

Fast forward 4 weeks and 4 times the parental shame later, we finally threw him a last minute surprise party (a surprise to hopefully distract form the fact that we had zero plans and were a month late). Party invites were texted, no organized games were devised, a few balloons hung (that my Lego profesh friend did since i spazzed out at the last second, and called her to help me as if i had a latex allergy). I simply bought a lego cake and a bunch of lego mini-figures for the party guests to play tradesies, fingers crossed... 

Total flipping hit. 

I was the first party i wasn't a micromanaging maniac. At one point in the chaos of the party Sheamus motioned that he wanted to tell me something... and when i knelt down he whispered softly in my ear "thanks for my surprise party mom. i love it." And then it was set in stone...It really was the best party EVER (even if it wasn't). My boy was shyly beaming (in true Sheamus fashion) and my heart was a puddle on the floor.

What is the lesson here folks? To procrastinate and then do a crappy job when you execute your plans? To be an underachiever and then ridicule the strengths of the friends you absolutely admire?? To shelter your kids from other moms who are way more awesome than you are??? Tempting, but No. 

The lesson here is: 6 year olds don't give a crap about "flare" (as long as they get presents). My unwarranted advice: calm the H down and don't go all nut job sewing custom party favor bags until 1 in the morning for any child under the age of say...10. Because there is a good chance that instead of acknowledging your insane labors of love (and they are insane), they are probably only gonna remember that one time the blue Lego cake they ate turned their poop green.

Of course none of you will listen to this and you will continue planning your 1 year olds birthday circus extravaganza, complete with a petting zoo, and midgets. Its because, like addicts, we all have to come to this realization on our own. Just call me when you hit rock bottom, and we can swap our stories of crazy.

team Boo ♥'s you

*E doesn't remember a thing. booyah.

*I am fully aware that this friend is reading this, and will never let me hear the end of it.

And finally (speaking of late) before I commit entirely to November, i have to share with you just how weird my kids are. This was the first year we actually carved pumpkins (as opposed to drawing on them with markers. Another one of my sweet "shortcuts") and they were basically gagging the whole time. Except for Sonny of course who ate the pumpkin guts right off the floor. Good times.

jagged little pill

We all remember the Alanis Morrisette "Irony" debacle of '95, and we've all second guessed our use use of the word since then. With that said, here are a few bits of my life in the last few weeks that may or may not be actual irony but are worth remembering:

My super ugly $9 anti-headache computer glasses that make me look like Winnie from Wonder Years (circle faces unite!) But the cool kids say really ugly things are just ironic enough to be cool. If that is true, these are just short of "ugly-enough" and really are actually just ugly. 

Sonny looks cute in them though...

I am finally taking a digital photography class, but I never take pictures of the things of my life anymore! Not even of the huge Halloween party I helped create last week...sad. On top of that, I never made it home to "freshen up" before it started so I was stuck in my running shoes, cut offs and mesh hat for the whole thing like a total idiot. Whenever I go through the trouble of making something look great I end up looking like a total freak.

For Halloween Adam dressed up like a pimp. He has a gold track suit that he pretty much wears every year on either Halloween (or for Christmas morning which is classy) He thought i should go as a prostitute, you know...so we'd match...walking our KIDS around our neighborhood to trick or treat...as a pimp...and prostitute. Nice.

Instead I decided I would go as the late Amy Winehouse*. You know, big hair, thick eyeliner....obviously not a prostitute! All my neighbors thought I was a prostitute anyway. Shocker. In retrospect, i probably could have rebelled against his plan with a little more enthusiasm...a clown? maybe a unicorn? (Again no pictures)

Lastly...believe it or not, Sonny is actually watching Oprah here:

Just kidding he is totally watching Mickey Mouse Club House. 

Duh.

team Boo ♥'s you

*(I chickened out on the missing side teeth, i don't generally like spending time looking ugly on purpose. Only accidentally, on most days and with little to no effort.)