A regular day around here, except for the five-tiered cake the girl's had for breakfast.
And celebrate we did. A party at the park with the turtles that spray water. A pinata, a huge cake, party bags, watermelon, presents, and of course many many friends, some of which she has known since they were born. It was a classic.
Nathan and I did our carefully orchestrated birthday party dance, complete with cake decorating late at night. This time we watched comic Louis C.K while I spread frosting, a completely raunchy and irreverent counterpart to the sweet innocent dessert. Nathan wrapped presents. Morning brought party bag decorating for Xi (with spontaneous outbursts of delirious spinning), pinata stuffing for all three, organizing for mama, flower cutting (to decorate the cake) for papa, and a little non-birthday-person angst for Bella.
But, as Nathan reminded Bella, our girls have it pretty good when it comes to birthday parties. At our house all of the toys are shared so when one sister gets a new toy the other girls get the joy of that toy too. That helps. And we parents also make sure to include some sister-ship presents too, extra gifts that are for all three girls. This year they got those weird plastic animals that swell to 600 times their original size when you put them in water, jelly bracelets, and fake strands of purple and pink hair to clip into their own. Not too shabby.
And the parent party dance continued at the park when Nathan and I tried to get the pinata rope over the maple tree limb. I swear to you that not one single year has passed in which, after several other methods, the move that makes the difference in getting that stinking rope dangling just-so is for me to get on Nathan's shoulders. To the cheers of skinny girls in bathing suits he crouches down and I clamber up, barefoot, party dress and all. There is a moment of panic (for me) as we teeter a bit, then we make it to the trunk where I assure myself before anchoring my feet in his ribs and straighten my legs. The hoopla that follows when I, barely, finally, grasp that rope is my favorite part of the whole day.
Fast forward through much water splashing, watermelon eating, playing, candle blowing, cake drooling and eating, and present piles. I assure you much fun was had by all.
But today what I am thankful for is that it isn't a birthday party day, and not a camping day, or unpacking from camping day. It isn't a market day or anything else special. It's a day to send Feeleez invoices and print packing slips. It's a day to pick up a prescription for Henry. A day to do yoga. A day to linger in my pajamas. A regular day. A wonderful day. For it is these dips in the excitement scale that make those other days all the more delicious.