Two and Five Turns Three

Ptolemy had no interest in a birthday party this year.  Why bother, when you're already an age that defies convention?  (He claims he is "Two and five.")  I tried not to have a birthday party, I really tried, but then I was in that reclining chair waiting for the dentist and it was so peaceful that I imagined my life was in order.  Before I knew it, I had text-vited 30 kids to my house for a party the day after I was scheduled to get back from a trip.  I wasn't worried.  It was mostly people that I've already trained to have low expectations when they come to my house.

I woke up the morning of the party and ran through what I would need to do to prepare, which was virtually nothing, because I have minions.  Ptolemy was still crabby about the party, but at least he wanted a cupcake.  I bought cake mix and a bag of plastic police officers and the kids did the rest.  I'm telling you, it pays to have your guests trained to expect cakes decorated by two-year-olds and activities supervised by a schnauzer.  (If you ate part of this cake, do not watch this video.)

As the kids careened down a nine-dollar waterslide flanked by a sharp boulder on one side and a deep ravine on the other, I chatted with my friends.  I got a kick out of my-cousin-Sarah's descriptions of kids' birthday parties in her Miami neighborhood.  It's not enough to just rent a bouncy house, she said.  You have to also have live entertainment, a petting zoo, an open bar for the adults, creative catering, an over-the-top theme and preferably a professional to coordinate all of it.  Sarah wasn't sure she could deal with all that again this year, so she and Roland were planning to take their sons to New York to see Spiderman on Broadway instead.  Lincoln was excited about that until today.  Now he wants to have a slip-n-Slide party like Ptolemy's.  Can you blame him?

 Jen was our Simon Cowell, sitting at the bottom of the slide and calling out cheers and jeers, along with a score for each kid's run.  Everything is more fun with Jen.

 Tolly loved when the kids sang Happy Birthday.  Later that night when I sang to him again as I was tucking him in, he whispered, "All the kids did that with you today!"  He felt as special as he is, blowing out the candles on the cake he decorated himself!

I think Chip liked the party after all.  Since tomorrow is his real birthday, I asked him, "What do you want to do tomorrow for your birthday?"  He said, "Do the slip-n-slide and get in my crib."  Tired but happy, this boy.  As I hugged him one last time before bed, I felt so grateful for my little Tolly Boy.  We knew he was meant to be here, but for so long, we didn't know if we could get him here.  It was going to be the biggest heartbreak of my life if we failed.  After we had abandoned all hope, he came.  When I found out I was expecting him, it was the happiest moment.  It would take a thousand joyous moments to even match the surge of elation and I felt in that split second.  Ever since those first busy cells divided, Ptolemy has been a complete joy.  No really, a complete joy.  His tantrums are darling, his pout is adorable, his smile is golden, his little body is warm and snuggly, his mind is sharp and his ideas are hilarious.  He is perfect, and I'm glad we had so much fun celebrating his life today.  Does anyone want to do it again tomorrow?  Because if Ptolemy does, we will.  He's in charge.