Ode to Turning 6

Yesterday, Thing One and Thing Two turned 6.

It’s hard to believe it’s been half a dozen years since those two slime balls were pulled from my womb in a Bangkok hospital. It’s hard to believe it’s been six years since I called the night nurse at 4 a.m. and said, “Can you take them away?” And off they went for their first sleepover.

Yesterday, in honour of their birthday, the universe conspired and sent snow. Last year, my kids ran through sprinklers; this year, sledding was an option.

Still, if you care to read on, here are six highlights of our day:

• We bought balloons. Vivian chose a pink “Happy Birthday” one. William’s choice had a giant “65” painted on it.

“Are you sure you want one that says 65?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I was 5. Now I’m 6.”

• William figured out he could attach the string of his balloon to his remote control quad and bang it into our ankles repeatedly.

• Vivian spent two hours completing a stick-on mosaic butterfly. That craft could be a training ground for  brain surgeons and bomb disposal technicians. If it were me, I would have chucked the craft across the room after ten minutes of attempting to maneuver my barely-opposable thumbs. That’s me, the anti-crafter.

• We survived Build-a-Bear unscathed. If you’re a long-time reader, you may remember William’s epic meltdown and my idiotic parenting that occurred there this winter.

• Vivian decapitated her Ken doll. Our landing looked like a crime scene. My husband thinks Ken bears an uncanny resemblance to Stephen Harper. I’m not sure if that comment is because he’s lost his head or not.

• I made a cake. You may remember my previous baking episode. This time, my creation was a success, although carrying it to the table was nearly a natural disaster. With cake in hand, I tried to start singing Happy Birthday, but had a throat-clearing problem that made me sound tubercular. When I recovered, my husband imitated me until I was laughing so hard the candles were flickering. To this scene, add kids who are freaking out that mommy’s blowing out the candles and the stage is set for a catastrophe.

So, there it is. All in a day.

Happy Birthday, Thing 1 and 2. You make me happy. And you make me laugh.