So, the rest of Birthday Week can be summed up like this:
Purple glitter toes. Alcohol. Happy hour. Alcohol. Cookouts. Alcohol. Pool. No alcohol. Birthday cake.
Day 3 included getting a pedicure with a good friend. I love pretty much anything that involves pampering. Massages? Awesome. Facials? It's like two services in one, which is awesome x2.
Pedicures, in particular, are great because you get to sit in these massage chairs with an alcoholic beverage in one hand, magazine in the other, while soaking your feet in a whirlpool bath. I hate feet (except my own and my children's), so I don't know how those women work on other people's day in and day out, but whatever. The girl who did my friend's pedicure had these great purple toes. I'm usually a hot pink kind of girl in the summer, but I really liked her color. So, here I am with purple glitter toes.
Additionally, Day 3 reminded me I'm getting older (since, obviously, the birthday itself wasn't). I received a text from our babysitter that my 5-year-old lost his first tooth. WTF? Isn't he still getting his baby teeth? How is he old enough to lose them? I knew he had a loose tooth, but I thought it'd stay in there until he was at least 7.
What? That's not how it works? Oh.
A few weeks ago, my mother had brought over a tooth fairy pillow for us to use for the tooth. As soon as I saw it, I remembered putting my own teeth in there. And, um, it still had a tooth in the pocket, which was kind of gross. My mother took the tooth home with her, which is even grosser. What was she going to do with it? (I can just picture my mother furiously grasping at anything to keep us young - a strand of hair, a baby tooth... and, what? Putting it all in a scrapbook? Seriously, what was she going to do with this tooth?)
Anyway, that night, we put the tooth in the pocket of the pillow and, lucky for me... I must interrupt here -- for those who still believe in the Tooth Fairy, because he's real - he really is, but... please skip this paragraph. Thanks. -- lucky for me he didn't want to put the pillow under his pillow. I was concerned about how I was going to get at the tooth without waking him. Instead, he put the pillow on his dresser, which was so much easier for me (er, for the Tooth Fairy) to access. And what did he get for the tooth? FIVE dollars!
In my defense, a friend told me that the first tooth is special, so pay a premium for it, but have the rest at a normal price (I think I got a quarter for each of my teeth). But, then I had another friend tell me the first tooth will set the precedent and the child will expect the same for all his (24) teeth. Of course, I was told that AFTER I had already given the $5... rats. And my son told me his friend was given a wallet for his teeth. I kind of doubt that happened, but he's been asking for a wallet ever since. Maybe for tooth #24... to hold his 5x23... $115(!).
The rest of the week/end was filled with alcohol and happy hours and cookouts and time at the pool. My 2-year-old, who wouldn't go near the water last year, is now afraid of nothing. He jumped in, whether someone was there to catch him or not. He swallowed half the pool's chlorine (which is most likely what made him throw up later - it was either that or the fact he shoved an entire peanut butter and jelly sandwich into his mouth at once and then freaked because he couldn't swallow, or, uh, breathe. Um, hello?).
And birthday cake. Not sure this is known about me, but I love dessert. I'd give you my kidney for a good piece of cake. Well, it'd have to be a pretty damn good piece of cake. And we'd have to be a match and all...
Anyway, birthday week is done and over. And now I'm back to cleaning bathrooms. Good times, good times.
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