April 13, 2010

the boy turns five.

How is it that your first born child, in the blink of an eye, turns five years old?  Where did my baby go?  We have cherished every single day of the past five years with this little boy - our son.  We marked this milestone with a party for George and a gaggle of his little friends on Saturday.  The party's theme will come as a complete shock, I'm sure.

You can't get any cuter than a roomful of sweet little guys willing to wear SpongeBob party hats.  So precious.

We did a craft (well, sort of . . . hard to do a craft when there is hockey, baseball, basketball and a host of other activities going on in the backyard), ate a yummy lunch expertly prepared by Pap, and then came time for cake and ice cream.  And someone who shall remain nameless (ahem) is going to receive his Father-of-the-Year award for this act of love (and courage):
Yes, that is Kevin in a Spongebob costume.  This absolutely made George's day. 
After the shock of George seeing his father dressed as his favorite cartoon character he blew out his candles.
And here are the boys with Uncle Dan - a kid at heart.  And honestly, I wonder if it was just coincidence that Dan wore a SpongeBob shirt, or if he knew about the party's theme.  I'm thinking it was just coincidence.
When the time came to open presents the kids were excited.  Very excited.  The party quickly turned into a tryout for the WWE.
I really can't accurately describe in words the level of excitement with the gift opening.  Hopefully the above picture gives it some justice - the only one without a giant blur moving from one side of the frame to the other.  And as you may notice Kevin quickly stripped himself of the costume.  I just love that man.
After another interruption in the party's agenda for a round of every sport under the sun, we brought out the pinata.  If you're ever in the market for something super indestructable, like a bullet-proof vest or goalie pads, save yourself some cash and buy a SpongeBob pinata at Kmart.  The thing cannot be destroyed.  A group of 10 boys eager to swing bats can do little damage.
Okay, boys.  One at a time.  Beat poor SpongeBob as hard as you can.
Round 2.  Swing, kids, swing!  This is for candy for crying outloud!
Round 3.  Forget it.  Let's cheat.  Everyone grab a string.
Pull boys!  Pull!  For your life!  Do it!
Oh, for the love of . . . Kevin just rip the thing open.
Before we knew it the celebration was over and we said goodbye to all of our friends.  Just as the last rugrat was on his way home, Maggie and I were talking in the dining room when she said to me, "Erica, turn around.  You have to take a picture."  And there he was.  My five-year-old cake loving boy blissfully and with eyes closed and without a care in the world, nose deep in his leftover birthday cake.  Oh, to be 5!
Happy birthday you gorgeous, silly boy!

george's day.

Our first born turns 5!  Where does the time go?
Happy Birthday George!

April 9, 2010

anything for cake.

Recent conversation with my almost-not-four-years-old-anymore son:

George:  "Mom, 'E' (a classmate) invited me to her birthday party at school today!"

Me:  "Oh, wow!  If you get an invitation I will take you.  It will be fun!"

George:  "I'm so excited!"

Me:  "Me too!"

George:  "She told me it is going to be a princess party."

Me:  "A princess party?"

George:  "Uh, yeah.  Princess."

Me:  "Princess?"

George:  "Yes."

Me:  "Honey, don't be sad, but I bet her party is just for girls."

George:  "But she said I could go!"

Me:  "I think she was trying to be nice, but I bet her mommy is sending invitations to just girls."

George:  "Well, what do you do at a princess party?"

Me:  "Oh, the girls will probably wear pretty dresses and wear tiaras.  I think everything will be pink and glittery."

George:  "Ooohhh."

Me:  "Yeeeaaah."

George:  (long sigh)  "But mom, I'll do anything for cake."

April 6, 2010

best easter ever.

How was your Easter?  Let me tell you about ours.  It was the best ever.  A perfect day and a wonderful feast.  Here is a little photo montage of the day.

Adorable picture of the boys, right?  Well, don't let them fool you.  Later in the day their grandmother confiscated what the Easter bunny gave them in order to avoid injury or death.  You know . . . the typical stuff you have to do on Easter.

The boys were very excited to find some money to add to their piggy banks.  Some of it may have been Canadian, but we haven't yet covered the value of foreign currency with the boys so we're good.

After the egg hunt and breakfast we went to Mass.  I wish it was appropriate to bring a camera to church.  There are just so many photo opportunities that I could capture there.  Like after Communion when we were just about to slip back into our pew and Teddy slumps down on the floor and yells, "OH, MAN!  NOT AGAIN!"  The look of torture on his face would have made a lovely portrait.  Thankfully the sound of the organ drowned out the boy's comment which could have otherwise been clearly interpreted to the entire Cathedral as, this family has left Mass after Communion a time or two.  Not true, though.  Definitely not true.  I don't know where he got this attitude.

Then we were back home to prepare for dinner.  You can barely see the mantel there on the left where after dinner I found a card that read, To the Mommy of the Best Baby in the World.  It was not for me.  It was for my sister-in-law who has a birthday this week.  And it was so much fun to pitch a fit about who really has the best babies in the world. 

There is Nunny, the matriarch of the family.  The one who wrote the card not for me.  You really have to keep your eyes on that one.

Meanwhile we have Pap in the kitchen preparing the ham.  Delicious.  And a holiday isn't a holiday unless everyone is near starvation just before gorging themselves.  Look at George and his Uncle Dan holding onto the kitchen island for balance.  And we have Teddy muttering, "Pap.  I need meat.  I neeeeeeed meat." 

Wish granted.  We can't have anyone passing out around here on Easter.

Dinner was excellent as always.  A big spread that everyone enjoyed.  Then it was time for cake.  Although Maggie isn't getting any speed cake cutting awards because these kids are dying for a piece.  Move it, lady!

Before I conclude I should post a picture of this baby I keep referring to.  There he is.  And he really is the best.  And it doesn't hurt being so darn cute.  Couldn't you just eat those cheeks?