Yesterday was Chloe’s third birthday.
Greg had asked a few weeks ago if we could agree as a family to celebrate Chloe’s birthday the day after her actual birthday because he had all day meetings and would miss out on everything.
We thought given the written notice, the begging, the pleading, my God the tears, we should let Daddy participate in the festivities so we pushed the birthday ahead.
I worried if I didn’t tell Hanna and Ellie and just tried to keep things low key over breakfast that morning, they would arrive at school, hear the date on the morning announcements and start running home because it was their little sister’s birthday and nobody had remembered.
I explained to the girls that we would put up some balloons, make a Happy Birthday poster and give Chloe a new set of Pinkalicious books over breakfast on her actual birthday but save the dinner, the cake and the big present until we could all be together.
They looked at me like I had three heads.
Hanna/Ellie: We have to go to school? But it’s Chloe’s birthday?
I know where they are coming from. I used to think it was insane to have to work on my birthday. I have a summer birthday so I never had to drag myself to school but I’m assuming others did?
Ellie frantically tore through the craft cupboard looking for markers and glitter glue, directing Hanna to find some balloons in one of the many, MANY junk drawers they have probably found balloons in the past.
When our darling birthday girl woke up, now three years old, she really hadn’t changed over night.
Chloe: Where is my baby cousin? Where are my friends? Where is my party?
Gulp.
Me: Chloe, we are going to celebrate when Daddy gets home from work and we will organize a group (I was really hoping to be able to skip that part) when it’s convenient for everyone.
Me again: Can I make you a special birthday breakfast?
Chloe: I want my cake.
Me: Well, we can’t have cake for breakfast.
Storms down the hall crying. I know, ‘it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to’ but there was no party and she’d only been awake for forty-five seconds.
Ellie: Daddy told us he would rather get fired from his job than ever miss one of our birthdays so, Daddy. Is. A. Liar.
Daddy wasn’t lying. He just says things when birthdays fall conveniently on weekends that I’m sure he wishes he could take back.
Hanna has introduced a new problem trumping anything birthday related. She can no longer wear her shiny, gold pants because a boy in her class has them.
Um, is his last name Travolta? And why is this relevant? Wear something else.
Chloe: I want to wear a t-shirt and no underwear.
Fine birthday girl. Fine.
For the record, having a birthday didn’t change much. She might be three, but she’s still a nudist.
