Wednesday, March 12, 2008

March 12, 2008

So, I just turned 39. Yesterday. Nothing exciting planned as I am the mother of 2 beautiful and unruly toddlers. I like to call them, "the fighting Irish" when they act the way they did all day on my birthday.

My sister, Karyn and I share the same birthday even though there is a four year difference. Now that we are adults, we like to celebrate together. (Sometimes we like to include our husbands and sometimes we don't like to even look at them.) This year, was no exception and we planned (or so I thought) to get together at her house with her family and mine.

Since she would be working all day, I offered to make dinner and bring it. O.K. settled.

The only problem, Karyn left and obscure message on my machine at about 9:30pm the night before stating "I can't stand my family and I really don't know what is going on for tomorrow night." (If you know her, this could really mean anything.) I thought it best to let it rest for the night and call her early in the morning.

Starting at 7:15am, I began calling and leaving messages on her cell phone. Unfortunately, even though I left about 4 throughout the course of the day, I never heard back from her. This could have meant a few things:

1. She forgot her cell phone (likely)

2. She forgot how to pick up her messages (highly likely)

3. She thinks the plan is in place and all is well. (also likely)

What would you do? Here I am essentially in charge of the birthday celebration so that all of our children (she has two) could feel that they had done something nice for their mother(s). I kept the faith and moved forward with the plan.

In an effort to simplify our lives at the "witching" hour (about 5:00pm when most children are ready to come completely unraveled and Mommy really needs a glass of wine), I prepared as much in advance as possible. This included baking chocolate cupcakes and mixing butter cream frosting so the children could decorate them. I proofed the pizza dough and partially cooked 3 large pizza crusts. While this was happening, I grated the cheese, cooked off some turkey sausage, caramelized onions and sauteed a gourmet mix of hamburger and spices. Once all was complete, it was packaged up and ready for travel. I continued to wait for the return call from my sister.

At 4:45pm, when I had decided to throw in the towel and have dinner at home, her call finally came:


(Car alarm honking in the background.)


So, I'm thinking dinner is off:

"Why don't you call me later?"

Fast forward to the rest of the evening:
My children eat pizza and have baths as if it was any typical night at our house. My husband arrives home with the spatula I wanted as a gift from the kids. I open it.

Karyn calls as I am on glass #2 of wine:

"I don't know what happened?!"

Now everyone at her house is bummed out that there is no celebration.

"Operation Crazy Bitch" goes into motion:

We get the Norris children into the car, cupcakes, frosting, sprinkles, remaining ice cream from Declan's party, hot fudge from the pantry...oh and a bottle of wine thrown into my purse (I have a big one...purse that is.) We arrive at Karyn's as the cleanup is happening for the coffee grounds that were spilled all over her kitchen. Don't ask.

Finally the wine is poured, the ice cream and cupcakes decorated and being eaten, we are relaxing with our make shift celebration.....

Wham! Blind sided again! One lone, full glass of RED wine not only gets knocked over and spilled down the front and inside the white cabinets, it shatters into a million shards of tiny knives. We spent the rest of the time, cleaning crevices in the kitchen, vacuuming up, comforting the hapless victim "No the birthday was not ruined, blah, blah, blah."

Oh, let's just go home and go to bed.

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