Whatta Day!


I know I promised to blog more about the BEA booty I scored, but Will's birthday was yesterday, so I have to, of course, stop everything in recognition and tribute to that.

Yesterday was one of those days, kind of like the day Ray Liotta's character in GoodFellas finally gets brought down. You know how he's narrating about all the crazy errands he has to run that day? That was my day.

I get up, work out, get Will up and moving. We're walking to school, talking about his birthday party he's going to have in class at 1:45 and he asks me if I've got the goody bags done. Being the slick mother I am, I smoothly reassure him that yes, of course, the goody bags are all ready to go.

There are no goody bags. Oh, crap. I'll have 28 first graders after me with pitchforks.

Drop Will off at school, run to Dunkin' Donuts to get a box of munchkins for Will's party. He doesn't eat cake, but loves himself some munchkins. And it's easier to clean up, too, so the teacher should love me. Right? Right. I have to get the munchkins early, because if I go there around lunchtime, there will be none. And then I'll have 28 first graders after with me with pitchforks. Or one very pissed-off first grader because I'd have to buy a birthday cake and he's just not having that.

Go home, attempt to work for a few hours.

At noon, I run to the party store in Forest Hills to pick up Hulk party gear - cups, napkins, plates, and yes, GOODY BAGS. I find a "pinata party bag" - two pounds of assorted candy and toys to stuff into a pinata and figure, perfect. Two pounds should take care of 28 kids, right? (Wrong.) Pay for everything, run down to the train station where I stuff goody bags as I await my train. Anyone who is not a parent is staring at me like I'm clearly insane. Which I am - I'm a parent.

I get off at the stop by Will's school only to realize that two pounds of candy and toys are not enough for 28 first graders. I run upstairs into Rite Aid, buy three small bags of candy and two bottles of apple juice. Run into the school office and ask the staff to allow me to stuff goody bags. I sit there on a bench outside the principal's office, sorting goody bags.

Twenty dollars doesn't buy a lot in the way of candy anymore.

Drop the stuff off upstairs, I think the teacher thought I was just dropping stuff off because she thanked me and I kind of got the feeling I was supposed to leave. So I was a little bemused, but split. And yes, I did have to explain why I wasn't there to Will, who was not very happy. But everyone had goody bags, there were enough munchkins and juice to go around, so at least my reputation as Mom Extraordinaire is secure.

Had about an hour to kill, so went to Dunkin' Donuts again for a nice, large iced coffee. Wandered into Old Navy, but didn't see much. Headed back to pick Will up from school, and rushed him off to the train station to get him to religion class. Getting there early, he asked for Tasty D-Lite. Ate his usual 5 bites before pronouncing himself full, so I pretended to eat it and offer him bites all the way to school. He finished it.

Will's under the impression that I am keeping a big birthday surprise for him. I told Mike not to hand him three video games in a Best Buy bag on the way to his party, dammit. I drop him off at religion, run upstairs to the library to register him for next year (two sacraments, cha-ching), run down to treat myself to a brow threading, and run to get Will a surprise. First it's back to the party store to get him a Spongebob lollipop I saw earlier, then to Barnes & Noble because the comic book store had squat I'd buy for him. Yes, my son needs more books like I do, but cut me a break here. Got him two X-Men tie-in books and a Pirates of the Caribbean one, then rushed back to get him from school.

Got him home, helped him with homework, and got the laundry together. Mike picked us up a little after six, and then we were off to pick up Alex and catch a showing of Over the Hedge in College Point.

Got home after 9. And no, I haven't watched Lost yet - I am not visiting anyone's blog until I do, either. I'll watch it tonight, because last night, a visit from Sawyer himself probably couldn't have kept my eyes open long enough.

I am mother. I am frickin' exhausted. But my baby boy is 7 years old (when did that happen?) and happy, and that's all that matters to me.