Sunday, March 09, 2008

...and all I got was this T-nager.

Ugh, I'm behind and things just keep piling up. Aside from the usual (yard needs work, few minor house repairs, mountain of laundry, etc), Katie had to go and turn 16. Can't someone just make it stop?

In anticipation of birthday celebrating and associated visitors to the house, I spent the last 48 hours marathon-cleaning (just don't go upstairs. Or look in that closet.). The majority of that time was spent banishing Dagny's tiny toys from the living room, sitting room and dining room. Where did all those things come from, anyway? At one point, while sorting Polly Pockets, I thought I was going to have a psychotic episode ("Twenty-three Polly shoes and NO MATCHING PAIRS?? aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!"). And I made a cake. And I went birthday shopping.

[Meanwhile, Jack was finishing the latest issue of Southern Maturity, writing pieces for the upcoming issue of The New Individualist and otherwise earning income. He was exempt from house cleaning.]

On Friday, we went out to eat at a fancy-schmantcy restaurant as part of our weekend-long birthday celebration, which required me to actually dress like an adult and run a flat iron through my hair. I got to wear my beautiful, black pointy-toe boots for the first time in almost two years.

Saturday, I was still sneak-cleaning (you know, where you toss things into and under things while distracting your company with conversation. Hey, look outside! Is that a Cedar Waxwing or female Cardinal? [toss toss hide slide fling]). Then, we all went bowling with my parents, my mother-in-law, my sister and her boyfriend who all came back to the (deceptively clean-looking) house for presents and cake (which I made...did I mention that?). Late that afternoon, Jack took Katie to the bookstore while I took a two-hour nap with Dagny--thoroughly disrupting our sleep pattern for the next few days/nights (but it was worth it. I slept so hard that I drooled on her head.).

Most importantly, Katie had a nice time. She's an under-stated kid (and that in itself is an understatement) who doesn't like a lot of hoopla and rarely expresses excitement or levity, but tonight she said to me, "That was a fun party today. We ought to do stuff like that more often." I would have kissed her, but she hates that kind of thing, too.

Sigh.

I have a sixteen year old.

1 comment:

Jeanne said...

Aw, Nat, this makes me miss you even more! I loved hearing all the details of your Sweet Sixteen Girl's celebration.

And I've got the "Don't go upstairs/Don't open that closet" thing down myself.

Glad you had a fun day. And survived. And I can't believe she's SIXteen! Wowie zowie! And Happy Birthday!