a pat on the back for the birthday boy
It's been almost a week since my littlest monkey celebrated his 12th birthday. We are still recovering. No, not really, but bits of family stuff here and there prevented me from blogging about it right away.
So what does it mean to be 12? Well, I guess it means that you are no stranger to rude noises at inappropriate times. When our pre-teen was just a wee baby I used to nurse him and then put him over my shoulder and gently rub his back, waiting for the tiny burp that signaled the end of our feeding session.
And now that he's a big guy, almost a teenager? He can burp the alphabet on command. Nice, really nice.
We had a family party last Tuesday, Boy12's real birthday, and a kids' party on Wednesday involving the usual: cake, a pinata, a DVD. Chips, pizza, a whoopie cushion, copious amounts of soft drinks and the inevitable burping contest that results from drinking copious amounts of said soft drinks. What IS it with boys and burping anyway? Boy12 commented after the party, "Wow, I thought it was going to be lame, but it turned out great! Did you hear me burping?"
The cake this year was an interesting challenge - according to the BirthdayMeister it had to look like a pizza. So I set to work and with Boy12's help and vision I think we did a pretty good job.
pizza dough - sponge cake baked in a pizza pan
tomato sauce - strawberry preserves
cheese - grated white chocolate
salami - iced cookies
olives and peppers - gumdrops
And it even tasted good!
So that's that, no more family birthdays until the end of April. Pheww.
We're right in the middle of Easter holidays at the moment so blogging may be even more sporadic than usual.
P.S. I've got a little bit of Irish blood in me somewhere so I'll wish you all a Happy St. Patrick's Day!