it's party time (and Mommy needs a martini, stat)

The boys have been invited to four birthday parties between them this weekend. Yes, you heard me, FOUR! I haven't been invited to four parties in the past YEAR, never mind in ONE WEEKEND. Last night, in preparation for Birthday Extravaganza 2007! we had a planning session that was more detailed than anything the White House has ever enacted for the troops in Iraq (which isn't saying much, I guess).

The plan is this: after school today, the boys and I are going to SuperTarget to get gifts (and batteries and laundry detergent and a new pillow for Henry and baseball caps for the boys, if we remember all that). Wade is coming home early (I hope) so that Henry and I can leave at 5:45 for the FIRST party, which is at Pump It Up, from 6:00 until 8:15. And yes, we still DO put our kids to bed at 7:30! How nice of you to remember. And yes, I still DO hate Pump It Up! Also nice of you to remember.

Dammit.

Tomorrow, Wade is taking Charlie to a bowling party at noon, and I'm going to an OUTDOOR end-of-year/birthday bash with Henry (one which promises INFLATABLE JUMPY CASTLES, which makes Pump It Up look pretty good in comparison). THEN, at 2:00 we're all meeting up at the gymnastics place for my friend Leslie's son's birthday party. Which would make four birthday parties in twenty four hours.

But wait! Not done yet!

Tomorrow NIGHT, Wade's parents are taking the boys (who will be exhausted from being up too late the night before and from eating cake AT LEAST TWICE in the course of the day) so that Wade and I can go to a cajun luau at his boss' house. What is a cajun luau, you ask? I have no idea!

But there had better be an open bar.

Also on our list of Things That Must Get Done This Weekend (because OH MY GOD we're moving in TWO WEEKS): someone needs to go buy boxes, someone needs to mow the lawn, and someone needs to start sorting and packing stuff. We've reached an impasse about just who those "someones" are, although I can tell you this: I will NOT be mowing the lawn. No way. Not my job.

I will probably spend all of tomorrow morning in the guest room closet wondering where the hell all that crap in the back came from and why we have kept it for so long. I'll take pictures, I promise.

Last night, as we were all sitting at the table waiting for Charlie to very sloooooooooowly finish his dinner, we started talking about our weekend. Wade had forgotten that this was the Birthday Extravaganza! weekend, and he asked the kids what they wanted to do. And Charlie said, "I would like to go get DONUTS!"

And before I could stop him, Wade said, "We can do that! On Saturday morning!" And I thought, meh, what's one more donut to a sinking ship?*

*Wade likes to go around quoting his friend Miles' father, who, in the middle of another son's wedding weekend, when a waiter asked if he would like another bottle of champagne, said, "Why not? What's one more torpedo to a sinking ship?"