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We went to our first birthday party of the weekend today!  This one was at a pavilion at a local park.  There was a great playground as well as softball fields and other stuff to do, however we mostly used the play area.  Man!  Do our friends have a big extended family, because there were easily 15 children scrambling over the equipment like ants on an ant hill.  Mikey and Pierce had a great time running off energy climbing, sliding, and playing with the other kids—sort of…   Michael really just wanted Alyna to himself—that whole “I can only play with one other kid in the sandbox” mentality.  At one point another little boy told me that he (Mikey) was calling him names.  I asked this little boy what names, and he told me “poophead”.  Let me just say here that I prefer “shithead”, but that’s just me.  Really, though, I wish my child would quit with the potty talk—he thinks it’s funnier than it is mean, but none-the-less, we had to have a chat. 

A short while later, Michael comes up to his dad and I and says “That boy told me that Alyna was not my friend and was never going to be friends with me again.”  As he’s telling me this, his lip is quivering like he might cry.  (Show me this shithead, is my first thought.)  Outwardly, I told him to quit listening to this kid, it’s not true and it’s not this boy’s decision.  “Stop getting all worked up!”  I’m also remembering it’s only fair after Mikey called the boy a “poophead.”  My child is so sensitive!  It hurts my heart, yet makes me crazy—if he could just figure out how to act like a duck, and let some of this stuff roll off his back.

In the meantime, Pierce is toddling around having the time of his life.  Pretty soon, I see this little boy of about four holding Pierce’s hand and walking him around the play area.  My little one is smiling with his face full of dimples and enjoying the human chain game.  The other little boy had an endearing grin while taking care of his new little friend.  Turns out he has a little sister not much younger than Pierce.  His mother told me that he loves to brush his sister’s hair and take care of her—he just loves being a big brother!  How cute is that?!

Eventually, the little man-of-the-hour dove into his first birthday cake in just the style you would expect and then gifts were opened.  The last event of the day was a piñata.  It was such a cool idea—idea…  But with many children holding the ribbons that everyone is supposed to yank on the call of three, someone eventually couldn’t resist and pulled too hard before the group was ready.  All but two ribbons broke off without opening the hatch.  Birthday boy’s Dad was left holding the piñata with a mob of pint-sized maniacs waiting for the goodies break free.  Nothing happens…  There is some poking at it, then some slapping and punching at it.  Nothing happens….  Finally, it takes one dad to hold it and one to rip open the bottom forcing candy, confetti and toys to rain out.  Well, if I thought they were pint-sized maniacs before, the chaos of greedy little hands ensued like time lapsed footage of maggots consuming a carcass, quick to disappear when the goods have been consumed, leaving only residual stuff of no value behind—in this case confetti and overlooked, random pieces of candy.  It was quite an event to be witnessed.   Mikey wasn’tcourageous enough to penetrate the throng to claim his own booty, so a couple of the moms made sure he got handfuls of candy.

The party was a great success with only a couple hiccups.  Unfortunately the worst of which was the overcast weather—mid 60’s with high winds.  It was quite chilly, but still fun!

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