Today Patrick is six.
To think that six years ago today I was four days past my due date, lying on an examining table like a bloated manatee, gloating about how I couldn't even FEEL the contractions. Pain shmane. I am woman, hear me wolf down this 12-inch sub from Jersey Mike's.
Not to beLABOR the point, but it is customary on this anniversary to revisit the moments prior to Patrick's arrival and remember that sacred feeling.
(*moment relived*)
(See also: OW.)
On Saturday, we celebrated Patrick's birthday with the most last minute, low-maintenance, low-budget birthday party we've ever thrown, and It. Was. AWESOME.
To think that six years ago today I was four days past my due date, lying on an examining table like a bloated manatee, gloating about how I couldn't even FEEL the contractions. Pain shmane. I am woman, hear me wolf down this 12-inch sub from Jersey Mike's.
Not to beLABOR the point, but it is customary on this anniversary to revisit the moments prior to Patrick's arrival and remember that sacred feeling.
(*moment relived*)
(See also: OW.)
On Saturday, we celebrated Patrick's birthday with the most last minute, low-maintenance, low-budget birthday party we've ever thrown, and It. Was. AWESOME.
Like last year, he wanted a baseball party.
But unlike last year, we did away with the ballpark, the bouncehouse, the bungee cords, and the stadium of people singing happy birthday to a boy with his shy little head buried in my shoulder while I signaled Ozzie the mascot to stay out of shooting range.
This year was just baseball in the backyard, with Dad pitching,
But unlike last year, we did away with the ballpark, the bouncehouse, the bungee cords, and the stadium of people singing happy birthday to a boy with his shy little head buried in my shoulder while I signaled Ozzie the mascot to stay out of shooting range.
This year was just baseball in the backyard, with Dad pitching,
... a bunch of little boys,
... and a last-minute Kroger birthday cake.
Patrick and I headed to the store an hour before the party to pick up some supplies. Namely ice cream, chips, balloons and birthday cake. In this case, a cheap chocolate cake with blue and brown roses. When Patrick's face started to fall, I asked the woman behind the counter to write the words "Take me out to the ballgame, Patrick" in cursive across the top.
BAM. Baseball cake.
BAM. Baseball cake.
Every once in awhile, this parenting thing turns out to be easier than I thought.
Thanks in no small part, Patrick, to having a kid as cool as you.
Thanks in no small part, Patrick, to having a kid as cool as you.
Peace out, baby love.
And happy birthday.
And happy birthday.
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