Oh So THAT'S How

Today Vaughn and I were doin' a little Saturday browsing in an antique store when we saw a completely made up bed. Vaughn pointed to the bed and said, "That's what you need to make a baby" (perhaps he wants a sibling so bad and thinks I've forgotten and so he's taken to coaching). After clarifying that he said what I thought he said I think I mumbled something reminiscent of a '50's dad like, "What are you learning at school these days?" because honestly, sometimes a gal just wants to do her antique shopping without it becoming complicated.

Vaughn Turns 7

Last Saturday the blessed birthday party day finally arrived and like all birthdays thus far, it was pretty formulaic (Arrival-free play-game-pinata-cake-gifts-anxiously wait for parents to come claim children). This was the first party we'd had where parents could either hang out or drop-off and it actually made things a lot calmer with most parents choosing the drop-off option.

Literally two days before the party (and well after all supplies had been purchased) Vaughn started telling everyone he was having "a pirate party" despite the fact that nothing we'd bought fit the theme (I guess it is less exciting to say "I'm having a generic birthday-themed birthday party!"). In an effort to throw him a bone I tried to sketch out a rendering of Jack Sparrow for pin-the-eye-patch-on-the-pirate. It ended up a weird combination of overly serious (with the face being done in pencil with lots of shading and detail) and cartoonishly simplistic (with the rest of the picture being quickly added in Sharpie minutes before the party).

The highlight of the afternoon was when the majority of the kids had left and it was down to Vaughn and just a few friends who were scheduled to stay later. As they sat out on the back deck playing with his newly acquired Bakugan and Bionicles, Vaughn reclined back in his lounger and earnestly asked, "Would anyone be up for some finger knitting?" There was no reply and the play continued.

You....Not You....You

Selecting who is attending the birthday party is rife with consternation - although admittedly it is limited to the parents at this age. Vaughn was solid on who was attending his birthday party (and it was primarily people who had been available at recess the previous week) but Jacob and I knew there were loyalties, commitments and obligations to uphold. With a little haggling we got the list to both a reasonable number and ensured we'd be able to continue to look some of our friends in the eye.

After invitations went out we realized we'd neglected to put any sort of RSVP information on the invite so I decided to do just a quick follow up note. On his actual birthday I took Vaughn to school with a small stack of inconspicuous pieces of paper and began to frantically stuff boxes before any more parents came in.

Suddenly, out of the classroom came a little boy not invited to the party. What are those? he asked me, Invitations? I sort of felt like the Grinch getting busted by little Susie Who on Christmas. Without making eye contact I coolly replied, Noooooo, they are reminder notes for parents. (Score! Technically true!) He pointed at his box, This is my box - I sometimes forget things. Then he hovered....waiting. I started to break into a mild sweat and, hoping to ditch him went into the class to speak with the teacher. After nervously mumbling something about the muffins we'd brought I exited to deliver the last slip of paper. Heartachingly, he followed me and watched to see where the last slip of paper would go. I turned and walked out of the building without making eye contact with him again. Get used to it kid, it only gets worse. I should have said they were flu shot reminders.

** Update: Apparently Vaughn deflected the blame to us by saying that he wasn't invited because, "My parents don't know you that well."

Hooray for Sunnyside

Despite the frantic pace with which I drag Vaughn through his school hallways each morning, it really is a bright spot in my day. Unlike my Jr. High (which actually has it's own FaceBook group titled "I Went To South Valley Jr. High and I Turned Out Okay"), Vaughn's k-8 home is bursting with punky girls hugging each other in the halls rather than fighting each other down the street at Foster's Freeze. The band routinely practices The White Stripes in the morning (a little dated, but still) and I even saw one kid go up to a piano sitting in the hall and bust out a beautiful rendition of Van Halen's "Jump." Today was a new high though as some lone minstrel went dancing down the halls in his Obama t-shirt wearing a George Bush mask. These kids are alright.