Yesterday was my youngest’s birthday party. Complete with rain, cold weather, his  half sister, and the bio mom. I invited her. I always invite her. She usually doesn’t come but I guess this year’s persistence on my part, and on the part of every family member I could throw her way, worked. Mr E wants all of his parents there and I will move mountains for my kids. Moving mountains is hard work and I am tired.

I spent weeks planning this party. Birthdays are a huge event for me. They are everyone’s own personal holiday and I just want my kiddos to feel like they are being celebrated for who they are and what they contribute to this world. E wanted a turtle party. NOT a Ninja Turtle party…a cussing turtle turtle party. Complete with a turtle cake and turtle games. I made a kick-ass turtle cake, a dozen gluten free turtle cupcakes so I don’t poison half of my in-laws. I sewed up 20 bean bags with the fabric E chose. I made a turtle bean bag toss, a turtle racing game – complete with prizes, found turtle ceramic banks to paint, a freaking turtle pinata, and pulled together a turtle lunch (pizza, GF pizza, salad, bugles and soda – so the salad was the only turtle thing there but I was tired and didn’t want to think anymore, sue me).

During the week, I ran out of beans for the bags…ran to the store. Ran out of confectioners sugar for the icing…ran to the store. Made four 9″ rounds of cake – from scratch – and ran out of sugar and eggs…ran to the store. I’m a planner so I had thought I had purchased enough. It wasn’t…ran to the store. I still needed to sew E’s new birthday blanket (his request, his fabric choice, his binding choice) and nearly ran out of binding. Didn’t have to run to the store (Cussin’ A yo!). I packed up the dozen treat bags with turtle bubbles, turtle necklaces, turtles squirt toys, glow sticks and other random cheap toys to annoy other parents (those were E’s picks from the dollar store). I packed the pinata with rando candy E chose (imagine what an 80 year old dementia patient would pick and you’d have the candy) and a few things I grabbed so folks would have something edible to munch on, along with more rando toys to annoy other parents. I decorated the overly complicated cake and cupcakes. I organized the tables and chairs through the HOA so everything would be right there and easy for set-up, decorating, and tear down. I was fucking on this! All of this while still dealing with life with everyone’s favorite aspie, Mr T (now known on the yard as Stabby), and wrestling with this depression that drags me down and makes every atom feel heavy.

Friday rolls around and I went to grab the key to the shed and lavatory facilities and the freaking property manager, with whom I had scheduled all the things with, decided to bug out with no notice and leave me in a lurch.

After an eternity of me hiding in the laundry room, with the lights off, having what may be the panic attack of the century, the hubby rolls in on his white horse and rallies the tables and chairs from various family members over a 40 mile radius. Big D for the Win!

The party goes on without a hitch (other than the rain and cold) and the kiddo had the best day ever! He had his cousins and friends there, he had his family, and he ate the decapitated head from the turtle cake I so lovingly created for him. I played hostess and one wouldn’t even know that there were some serious tensions between us and the bio-mom. As I said…I will move mountains. I took and received some great photos of the event and forwarded some of the best ones of E and his sister to the bio-mom. No response. No “thanks, that was a lovely party”.  No “these pictures are awesome, thanks”. Nothing.

E’s birthday is tomorrow and it’s spring break so he and T are home with me. He REALLY wants to go to the aquarium. I invited the bio-mom, as I always do. She’s coming and I’m picking up the tab for both her and E’s sister, as I always will, so that E can have the childhood he deserves and not the one he’s currently bogging through. I will move mountains but it’s hard work and I’m tired.

I didn’t really get out of bed much today except to feed the kiddos and to check that they were still standing. The boys played around the house and yard. I could hear their laughter and I cried. I will survive tomorrow, I always do (until I don’t), but it’s hard work. And I’m tired.

 

 

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