Exactly 5 years!

I can’t believe S is five. I’m almost upset about it, and I definitely would be, if she wasn’t so happy about it. At least she still looks little!

This week has been tiring. Three of the kids broke-up last Wednesday, and by Thursday I was hissing threats at them whilst in the supermarket. Thankfully a productive weekend of cleaning removed me long enough to regain some calm.

And then this week began. It’s been alright really, as it’s mostly been cake decorating – one for S today, and another for a friend of a friend tomorrow.

In fact there’s a bit of a tale about that, you see this woman approached me whilst I was at Cass’s daughter’s party back at the start of May, and asked if I’d consider making her daughter’s cake. I mumbled about it being just a hobby, most just for friends, but made positive noises whilst wondering if she was just being polite.

I saw this lady again at Cass’s other daughter’s party in June, where she cornered me and gave me some details. Since then Cass put us in touch with one another, and the cake was agreed upon. All seemed normal until last week when Cass told me a funny thing, this lady was handing out invites to her daughter’s party, and gave one to Cass – but not for either of Cass’s daughters, but for Cass’s neighbour, and would Cass mind dropping it into the neighbour?

Neither of Cass’s daughters are invited! I’m a tad shocked. After all, she’s getting Cass’s friend (me) to make her daughter’s cake (at mates rates) and getting Cass to deliver an invite – is it me, or is the whole thing incredibly rude towards Cass?

I think it is, and I know Cass is feeling a bit bruised.

Of course I’ll act dumb tomorrow, when I drop the cake off, but I’ll be refusing if she asks for any more!

But back to my house, and my life.

My baby girl turned 5 today! Where have the years gone?! I’d better have plenty left, or bloody hell I’ll spend eternity bitching about being robbed.

I’m that kind of mind set because R came with me to collect Kobi tonight (my mother was dog sitting, as too many little darlings scream when Kobi hurtles towards them to say hello). R and I were talking about moderation in life, and how I believe my blood carries addictive personality traits. He asked if I was referring to my smoking, I said I was (as it was the easiest example). But after chatting on I point out that if I became a health nut and ran three miles a day, it wouldn’t mean I’d live any longer, as I might get hit by a bus when out running. Death is always with us, and anyone who thinks life is fair, is a fool.

I ended up thinking about an old school friend, Melanie, the most beautiful girl in my school year (and that’s beautiful inside, and out). She died when we were 17. I say ‘we’ because she was the mate I’d share my birthday parties with (she was 4 days younger than me).

She was cheated.

Anyway, good grief I’ve turned morbid. Having said that, I don’t think a little bit of morbidity is a bad thing, for example when I was walking on the beach yesterday, I was telling the kids about the area we were walking on. It’s a Neolithic burial chamber, and of course the kids near freaked and thereafter looked for old bones. Then I got to thinking about how many Moms over the generations must have walked with their kids over that same area, how we don’t know their names, or anything about their lives, and how many Moms with their kids will walk on that same stretch 100 years from now, knowing nothing about us.

Thoughts like this used to scare me, now I find it a kind of comfort.

I guess it’s watching children grow which provides the reassurance of continuity.

But I still miss Melanie.

But back to S! I think she enjoyed her birthday – certainly she’s still bouncing around, giggling all the way.

I’m bloody glad to get today out the way though, making two cakes for the same date is stressful. And exhausting, doubly so when you’re trying to get everything straight for a birthday tea-party too. Still, all’s well that ends well. Everyone had a fun time, the food was eaten, the cake demolished, presents still scatter the lounge, and the ache in my feet is at last a good ache.


Phew.

11 days until R’s birthday. Shit, I wonder what he wants.