- Passive gardening, a little here, a little there, depending on the position of the sun and my particular whim. The sun was making me dizzy, so I ended up in the far back stretch of yard – a spot where the shade is constant and the soil is moist and cool – and as I kneeled down before the plants when I suddenly became more focused on the scene. There was this amazing little world at my fingertips – illuminated by dappled sun and bits of shadow. There is poetry in gardening, isn't there?
- A ham/swiss/lettuce sandwich on Ace bakery baguette, smeared with a healthy dollop of newly-discovered sweet Russian mustard. One feta-stuffed jalapeno on the side. Ice coffee. Yum. There is poetry in eating, isn't there? :)
Low points:
- Meeting a potential client for lunch and forgetting my wallet (I am still feeling the sting of complete mortification and will continue to do so for many years.)
- Giving myself a two-degree burn from my reading lamp. When you work on the computer, and have LOADS of stuff to do around the house, a blister on the pinky is quite incapacitating.
I hope I don't trip in the shower or gouge myself with my toothbrush or choke on the dental floss today... because who knows, anything can happen around here. :)
a.
<monday may 31, 2004 - 7:53 a.m>
Good morning everyone. New pics are posted on the main page, in case you missed them on your way in.
<wednesday may 26, 2004 - 10:09 a.m>
I uploaded a bunch of photos from Emma’s birthday party the other day, but didn’t really write much about it.
I think the fifth birthday deserves to be remembered properly, it is, after all, a milestone of sorts. Five years as a little person, five years of growth and change from helpless infant to relatively well-adjusted girl who can brush her own teeth and pour her own cereal. Five years!
That day I kept thinking to myself:
five years ago today I was clutching my stomach and shrieking
five years ago today I was wondering if it was too late to take back this pregnancy thing
five years ago today I was wondering why ANYONE would choose natural labour over the alternative, because it hurt so damn much. How much? You wonder? Imagine someone sawing into your abdomen with a dull hacksaw, repeatedly, at increasing frequency and intensity with no interval for relief in between for about 24 hours, and then squeezing a watermelon out of an opening that isn't supposed to be wider than a fruit that is much much smaller. But I digress.
But back to the party.
I have a confession to make. I don’t really like throwing big parties. I can’t pinpoint the reason why. This is a recent revelation for me and it doesn't make rational sense. The act of throwing a party includes many of my favourite things : (a) cooking interesting foods for a group of (b) people that I like and (c) eating aforementioned foods. But for some reason the process turns me into a crotchety class-A dictator. Ask Mark.
Anyway, most of the planning for this one happened within the two days previous. This in itself is enough to drive any parent nutty. I am also a consummate list-maker. Sometimes I even keep several of them on the go, and they end up in the far reaches of the house only to be found months later when someone decides it’s time to vacuum underneath the couch.
Clearly, I wasn't helping myself very much was I? No wonder why I don't find this enjoyable.
Day of the party
Emma was amazing, a real class-A dictator go-getter.
The party guests were a social mélange from a few different sources: her old daycare, her current nursery school and her kindergarten class. I asked her to make sure everyone was introduced to one another. This is a task she took on with more style and aplomb that can be properly assumed by a five-year old. In fact, she made everyone sit down on the grass in a semi-circle (although another time she made them all stand in a line) and made several repeated rounds of introductions. I am amazed she didn’t quiz them on it later.
The pace of the actual party was insane, not unlike a pit stop at the Indy 500.
It was hard to keep track of a dozen (!) children at once. Our yard has several nooks and crannies, not to mention various flora that is totally out of control and obscures a clear line of view from one end of the yard to the other.
A few of the kids were non-particpants, and tended to keep to the outskirts, both socially and geographically. Much of the time I couldn’t see what they were doing. Worst-case scenario: they were eating compost, drinking out of the rain barrel or poking at a hitherto undiscovered wasp nest. Thankfully none of these things happened, unless they ate that compost so quickly that I didn't notice.
Some kids were happy to do the very opposite of what everyone else was doing or just preferred to stay one game behind everyone else. When we were playing (read: attempting to play) Duck Duck Goose they were doing a solitary march around the yard. When we were blowing bubbles they were drawing in the veranda, and when we were having snack they were blowing bubbles etc.
The organized games were only marginally successful than when we tried them at Sarah’s birthday. In this sense, there didn’t appear to be much of a difference between three- and five-year olds. Only that the attention span of the five-year old is exactly 4.5 seconds longer.
Our only real failure was the piñata.
Mark and I planned on having one early on. We figured this was an item that had multiple party purposes. Not only would it serve as entertainment (we didn’t have any clowns, ponies or magicians on hand) but it would serve the same purpose as the loot bags, AND it would help the kids work off some of the sugar coursing around their little arteries.
I found the piñata at Bulk Barn. I picked the rainbow-shaped one, simply because it was the most girly, and the least weird-looking. Who would want to hit a sadly malformed teddy bear or wonky hockey player?
It cost $12.00, which was cheaper than I expected. Little did I know that the inner construction was reinforced with electrical tape and strips of sheet metal. Ok, I’m only kidding about the sheet metal, but the thing was impossible to break open.
Perhaps the fact that I filled it with $40.00 worth of bulk candy and dollar-store items didn’t help. These things are supposed to flutter in the air, not hang heavy with the equivalent mass of a television set strung up by its own cord.
We let the kids have a go at it, sans blindfold, because we saw at the outset that it was going to be hard enough. Each kid had a bunch of swings. I was very nervous about someone getting thwacked with the broom handle. Fortunately there were no injuries, although we came close when one of the younger set suddenly made a dash outside the allowable perimeter.
In the end, Mark took a few hard swings. His last caused the whole thing to fall with a big thud to the ground completely intact.
Mark was swarmed, so I didn’t see what happened. I judge that he dumped out the contents rather unceremoniously in a small diameter at his feet. The kids fell on the candy like starved supermodels at a surprise roadside carrot-stand.
The party ended on a positive note. It wasn’t long after the piñata that it was time for everyone to go home. I fell into a big exhausted heap on the couch, and in my dreams, started to plan the details of next year’s birthday party. Uh, not! :)
