I am recovering, slowly, from the party weekend.

Friday, the real birthday, was spent with two friends at Build a Bear. Meet Nellie.
A dog, not a bear. With many accessories. I figure, why save money for college when you can buy cleats and a backpack for a stuffed animal? But the fun...oh my. The choosing and the stuffing. Picking a heart and a name. And did I mention the accessories? And Nellie has a baby that she can carry around in her mouth. Which is practically a necessity, along with the matching hair bows.

I'd like to thank this opportunity to thank Nellie. Named after Laura Ingalls' nemesis she has been our constant companion since Friday. And now? My daughter does not require us to lay with her until she falls asleep. She's got Nellie. I'd been prepping her for a few weeks about the whole 'we will lay with you for a few minutes and then we'll be tucking you in and leaving the room' thing. She was NOT thrilled by the idea and I only mentioned it in passing after that. And along comes Nellie. I sense the opportunity and POUNCE. "You've got Nellie now" I whispered to her, "She's here to keep you company" (while mommy watches survivor and regains what's left of her sanity).

And she said, "Okay." and asked for her nightlight. She's not too happy about it but she's doing it. And while one part of me is happy that I'm not laying down for a half an hour with her part of me feels like I just lost a tiny bit of my littlest girl.

*sniff*

Okay then. Friday night was the family shin-dig. With dinner and cake and presents. Holy PollyPocket explosion. And Saturday was the party for a few little friends and a mistake I won't be making again...the older brothers of little friends. It was a little too chaotic for my taste, the boys were kind of spazzy and wanted to take over the whole thing. My house is tiny and with a rainstorm raging outside it was claustrophobic. The girlie had a good time with her buddies for the most part and fell into bed exhausted.


The boy scored a hat trick during his game on Sunday. For all of you non-hockey aficionados that is a whopping THREE goals. I was stunned. Who is this kid? The smallest one in his class, who weighs 50 pounds, fully dressed? Whose elbows and shoulder blades are what you see most when he's running away from me on the beach...

I'm not raising a natural born superstar but he's decent at the game and loves, loves, loves it. And parents are coming up to me asking me about him and congratulating us. The best part? My 'too cool for momhugs at the busstop kid' he ran out of the locker room and forgot himself. He jumped into my arms and hugged me tight laughing and whooping it up. That was the best part by far.