Birthday Hangover

It finally happened. The big boy turned 5.

You know what happens when a boy turns 5? Nothing. Well...ok...maybe not nothing.

But did he start making his bed? no. Did he start doing the dishes? no. Did he start folding the laundry? no. But then again, it was HIS birthday, not mine.

But I swear, for an event that supposedly only lasts 24 hours this thing started about 3 months ago (when he turned "four and three-quarters) and I think it may have finally ended yesterday (5 days later). And I have no one to blame but myself.

I love birthdays, I really do. And there is no doubt that I love my kids. So put those two things together and it comes as not surprise that I tend to overdo it. Cupcakes at school. Special dinner and watching The Empire Strikes Back at night. Party two days later, followed by dinner with the whole family. And did I mention the presents? And the Star Wars theme to the whole week? Good God Darth Vader, stab me with a light saber and make the whole thing over. What was I thinking?

It was actually all good until Monday. That's when the hungover hit be over the head like 2 bottles of Merlot. In the car, on the way to the gym to work off all that naturally colored orange icing, the big boy asked me when he was going to get to see his friends that couldn't come to his party. I thought...that is so sweet, he misses them, let's invite them over. But no, that's not what he meant. He continued on to say...because I am sure they have a present for me, and I want to to get them before we go away to the beach.

Awesome...I'm so proud of that statement.

And then on Tuesday, with a straight face, he asked me how many days until Christmas.

And so you see, I thought I had a birthday hangover, but today I have a real one. Because instead of saying, "Are you fu^%*ng kidding me?" I downed a bottle of vodka.

Yes, it's true, I am in the running for mother of the year, but I haven't called them back yet because my head hurts too much!