Saturday was Tate's big day. He got to pick a couple of friends to come along on a special activity - a couple of hours at the Railway Museum running the model trains, and then on to Dairy Queen for treats and gifts. The "kid party" portion of celebrating his 12th birthday.
Nothing unusual about that, right?
Except that his birthday was in November.
Which was a rather busy month, what with soccer winding down (and the ensuing team parties), in-laws visiting, Thanksgiving in Oregon, and then being launched into December. I could also remind you that I'm not always exactly as organized as you may think. (Case in point: there are no pictures of this post because we forgot to bring a camera. To our own son's birthday party. Kerry even forgot his cel phone. So I'll post pictures when I get them from the 13 year old neighbor boy who brought his ipod, or whatever.)
All of that is true, but there's more.
You see, I have a confession to make. Though I love my kids and want to do nice things for them, I really do not like kids' birthday parties. And you can multiply that by ten if it's for an only child. (And if there's a clown? We won't even speak of that.)
Oh, we've had a few fun parties. Wyatt and Gunnar have it easier, with their summer birthdays. I mean, how hard is it to set up the slip-n-slide and serve ice-cream bars? Or take a bunch of kids to the lake? Tie-dye some undershirts? I can handle that. Especially with all the kids outside.
But Tate is a bit more challenging, with his November birthday. Not to mention his unique interests. I mean, his Civil War party was a lot of fun, in spite of my inability to find themed decorations. And the kids seemed to enjoy the Underground RR / slave catcher game we played out in the yard (as rain and darkness were falling at 4:30 in the afternoon,) but I have to tell you, I'm glad when the boys hit 10. Because that's when you age out of kid parties, in this house. After that you get special activities. With a nice, manageable group of polite boys.
Because something happens to boys when they get in a group. Is it just me, or have you noticed this too? You can take a bunch of boys that are perfectly nice (and sane) individually. But put them in a group and it's like baking soda and vinegar. Or Pepsi and Mentos. I think all the testosterone in one room causes them to lose their minds. Or something like that. Cake and junk food may possibly factor in. Maybe.
But I have good news. The next boy in this house to have a birthday will be Gunnar, in June. And you know how old he'll be?