After all my moaning and whining about not receiving any blue ribbons or tiaras or certificates of achievement since grade school, I suddenly find myself thrust into the limelight by the good women of Crazy Hip Blog Mamas.
(Okay, okay…maybe squeaky wheel gets the grease.)
Truly, truly I am honored.
I love writing and it’s wonderful to know that somewhere out there is someone - a small bunch of someone’s - who is reading and enjoying what I’m putting down. Award or no, anytime a reader tells me that I’ve made them laugh or giggle or crack a smile, I feel a little more sure that I’ve somehow earned the bit of Halushki-shaped real estate that I take up on this planet, that I’m not using up precious oxygen for no good reason.
So, sincerely, from the bottom of my laptop, thank you all very much.
Now…what a week to be voted Mother of the Week.
Oh such laughter and squeals of delight were never heard before!
A birthday party to remember and, verily, the work of a Mother of the Week!
However, that a party like that would take a lot of planning.
And a unicorn.
And lately, I haven’t had the energy to encourage my daughters change from their pajamas before noon, let alone convince my husband to dress like a goat-footed piper.
It’s hot here. And humid. And I have someone’s feet in my lungs making it very difficult to do anything other than huff and puff from chair to chair and sigh, “Honey, get Mama a glass of sweet tea, there’s a dear.”
So, I’ve slacked-off and the party will instead be themed Fairy Free-For-All. The guests will arrive around dinner time, eat pizza, make flowered fairy wands, and then be encouraged to run wild for an hour and a half, perhaps occasionally beating each other with the wands. There will be some tears, much laughing, and if all goes well, around sunset the cat will make an appearance from beneath the shrubbery and the girls will commence to chase it through the yard for the final half hour. We’ll sing Happy Birthday and cut the Tinkerbell cake that I ordered from the Giant supermarket, after which it will be just about time to hand over eight sugar-crazed, wand-wielding fairies to their parents, and time for me to sit down again, long and hard and with a “whoompf” sound.
On second thought, both parties sound like fun, don't they?
Who doesn’t love beating other party guests with wands?
I never liked Loop-the-Lolly-Loo, anyway. As a child. I was always lollying instead of looping, and next thing you know I was on my butt with a patent leather party shoe in the punch.
So maybe, after all, this is a good week to be awarded the Mother of the Week title.
I mean, I don’t want to set the bar to high for myself.
In fact, now that I’ve been bestowed the title MOTW, I can relax a little.
Next birthday, the party theme will simply be “MUD!”
In other news, I need to mention that my Internet service is down completely. Oh the irony of receiving a blog award and having no access to my blog! It’s kinda funny if you think about it.
Okay, it’s not.
At this time, however, I do also need to mention that Verizon.net DSL customer service SUCKS GOAT FEET!
Pardon my French. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more poetic, what with just being recognized with a blog writer award and all.
My darling husband is at this moment doing me the biggest of favors by posting this entry from an undisclosed location which is not where he works. (Hi Honey! Thank you!) (As Vito Corleone once said, someday - and that day may never come - I'll call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughter's
I should be up-and-running again in seven to ten days, although I may be able to post now and again from the library. We’ll see. I suppose that I should also let people know that I’m also without email. How quaint! It’s like being Amish except without the bonnets and mules.
In the meantime - and in the spirit of Mother-of-the-Week-ness - here are a few links to blog entries gone by in which I wax poetic (sometimes literally) about that thing I do and do and do and do and do. Peruse at your convenience throughout the next few days. Don’t gobble these down all at once because I‘m not cooking any more tonight, what do you think I'm running here, a diner?
See what a great mom I am? I just can’t stop myself.
In which I write a poem about doing laundry
In which I take my children to Hershey Park on Good Friday and feel the wrath of God
In which I introduce my daughters to Speed Racer
In which I have a panic attack at the beach
In which my 4yo wrecks my car and says the "Sh" word
In which we go to Disney World and I don’t choke anyone