My, how quickly they grow
Julie turns nine today. And I am feeling nostalgic…
Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl.
She’s getting older
Accidental Poet has been my sister-in-law for so long, it feels like she’s really my sister. I was sixteen when she married my brother. And you know I just celebrated my 40th birthday, so you do the math. My dad was a wise man – he used to say he had seven (now it’s eight) children rather than four. He considered those who’d married into the family to be his children just like those who were born into it. So I often feel like I have three sisters and three brothers. Lucky me.
Today is AP’s birthday, and I wish I could show up at her doorstep and whisk her away for an evening out – maybe a movie, maybe a piece of cheese cake and a latté, maybe just a walk in the park. We’d have a good laugh, we’d talk about our kids, and we’d tell each other stories about what’s going on in our lives. I wish I could, but I can’t. She lives too many miles away from me.
But she DOES read this blog, so this will have to be her virtual “night out”. AP, put up your feet, grab a cup of coffee (and cheese cake if there’s any in the house), and read a few of the many things I like and admire about you…
– you make me laugh almost as much as my husband does, and that’s a HUGE compliment
– you like my laundry room ESPECIALLY when it’s messy, because it shows our shared weakness
– you know that if I show up at your house for holidays, I’ll get just as giddy as you over the possibility of staying up all night sewing costumes for our kids
– you understand why it’s important to not only sew circle skirts but to add bandanas and matching circles on t-shirts
– you know the beauty of words well placed
– you ALWAYS welcome us into your home, even when it’s messy
– you let me come to your writing group when I visit
– you let me go to a movie with Technobrother when I visit, and you hang out with my kids
– you can read a book faster than anyone I know and you REMEMBER THE DETAILS!
– we can talk about writing together and you understand why I write
– you cheer me on when I get something published
– you have the greatest way of engaging people in conversation and making them feel like they are the most important people on earth
– you have a heart full of compassion and you remember important things about people
– you let me be lazy at your house
– you have a sharp wit and quick mind and it makes me realize why my blog is called “fumbling for words” and yours is not
– you are humble and honest and real
Oh, and there’s one other thing. My brother could have brought home a beautiful girl, but instead he brought home one I LIKED! (And for anyone who thinks I’ve just insulted her, you’d have to be there. She forgave me the first time and I’m sure she will this time – 25 years later.)
Turns out I didn’t need a cleaning fairy…
I just needed to ask my husband nicely. 🙂 Came home to a clean house today. Aaahhh…
Yes, I’m lucky. And he’s cute in his little fairy outfit too.
Hello-o. My house is THIS way. Did you lose your MAP?
Has anyone seen the cleaning fairy? She keeps missing my house and I want to know what’s up. If she comes by your house, can you point her in my direction?
I keep sending her messages through the cosmos telling her my house is just the right house to test out all those new heavy-duty magic potions she’s been dying to try, but she doesn’t seem to get my message. I even leave treats out for her – like the bits of broken cookies on the kitchen floor and the chips my kids left scattered all over the family room last night. But alas, she turns up her nose at my meagre offerings and flutters off somewhere else.
Anyone have any tricks to entice her to visit? I thought perhaps she preferred to work alone, so this afternoon, when the dusting and vacuuming and sweeping and wiping needed doing, I went for a bike ride instead, hoping against hope she’d show up. But of course, nothing. And tonight, when the laundry mountain looked way too imposing to tackle, I wandered off to the playground, thinking the peace and quiet would be just what she was looking for. Sigh. Still nothing.
I’m discouraged. I’ve waited and waited and waited for her. If she takes much longer, I may have to take drastic measures and start cleaning my house mySELF. Sheesh. Cleaning fairy, if you can hear me, PLEASE don’t let it come to that.
The day after
Well, it was a GREAT party. G.R.E.A.T. I haven’t had that much fun since… I can’t remember when. There was plenty of food. Of the over 100 hot dogs we cooked, only a few shriveled weiners were left (it seems alot of people like weiners without buns, because there were more buns left over than weiners – go figure). I thought I’d run out of chips, but so many people brought chips that I think we had more AFTER the party than we did before. We could have used a bit more pop – I guess I thought “BYOB” meant that people would bring along enough beverages (including non-alcoholic), but we ran a little low.
The fireworks display was a BIG hit. Quite impressive for a backyard party, I’d say. Marcel and Julie got positively giddy when we went to the fireworks store to stock up. Those two are turning into pyrotechnic addicts!
Lots of people showed up. Our best estimate is around 75 people. It turns out that alot of people like us. 🙂 (Or at least we know alot of people that like to party.) I think there was someone there representing nearly every factor of our lives – family, extended families, work, church, school, neighbourhood, kids’ soccer, childhood friends, old workplaces. Wow! What a rush to see so many people gathered who are there because they like you and feel connected to you. Wish you ALL could have been there too!
The weather was awesome – a little cool, but not as cool as we’d feared. There was a great fire in the firepit that warmed up anyone who got cool. The kids had a great time playing soccer and running around in the grass. Every time I looked around, there were lots of great conversations going on, people were laughing and having fun, and nobody really looked left out (at least I HOPE nobody did). People from different parts of our lives were connecting with each other and striking up new friendships. At least one dinner party will result from one of those new friendships, and apparently other phone numbers were exchanged.
Stopping in the middle of the crowd, I looked around and was both humbled and honoured by all the people who had gathered to show us their love and support. There’s something about being in the middle of a crowd of about 75 people who are all connected to you that makes you feel strong – like you can accomplish great things with so many people on your side.
Oh, and we got great loot too. We now have a well-stocked wine cabinet, gift certificates for a few meals out, a night at the movies, cash, and an assortment of other things. Marcel got the iPod he’s been longing for from me and his siblings.
And the pièce de resistance? I GET TO GO SKYDIVING! I guess Marcel’s not TOO worried about me jumping out of a plane, ’cause he bought me a gift certificate! 🙂
So today I’m basking in the glow of a great party, lots of friends, and a night of good conversation and lots of great moments. Sorry I have no pictures to share – I was too busy talking to old friends, keeping the chip bowls stocked, introducing people to each other, hugging people, welcoming newcomers, etc., etc., to think about taking pictures. I didn’t even take the time to eat one of those hotdogs. And today, they just don’t look as appetizing anymore.
PARTY!
We’re throwing a big party tonight. An outdoor party. At Marcel’s parents place out in the country. We’ve invited almost everyone we know – work friends, church friends, siblings, cousins and aunts and uncles, friends from old work places, our kids’ friends, neighbours – you name it. It could be 100 people… or it could be 10. Who knows? We didn’t ask for RSVPs.
We’re celebrating Marcel’s graduation and my 40th birthday. But REALLY it’s more about Marcel’s grad, because turning 40 takes NO effort compared to three and a half years in university. He NEVER lets me throw parties in his honour, because he’s an introvert and hates to be the centre of attention. I like throwing parties, but I’ve honoured his request so far. When he started university, he told me that the one and only time I could throw him a party would be for his grad. I never forgot and now I’m holding him to it. In the end, though, the only way he’d agree to it was if I offered to share the spotlight. So, ostensibly, it’s for both of us.
It’s a big party, but because our budget is dreadfully tight, it’s pretty low-brow. No steak or lobsters or even chicken drumsticks on the barbecue. Nope, the best they’re gonna get tonight is hot dogs and chips and cake and ice cream. (Did I scare anyone off yet?)
I have no idea who will come. I have no idea if we have enough food (but, as my sister says “You have ENOUGH. When the food runs out, people are done eating.”) I don’t know if we should have planned entertaining games, or just assumed people will have enough fun just chatting with each other. I went with the latter, ‘cause I couldn’t think of any games and didn’t feel much like planning any anyway.
I didn’t think I was stressed out about it, but last night I lay awake wondering if we’d thought of everything. Weiners? Check. Buns? Pick them up this afternoon. Plates, cups, napkins? Check. Coffee urn? Check. Fireworks? Pick them up this afternoon. Condiments? Check. Table cloth? Check. And the list went on and on through my head.
I suppose, in the end, we’ll be ready. Now if only people will show up and we won’t be left, forlorn and neglected, with 100 hot dogs!