There was a birthday party

Last weekend was the party. It was, well, it was a party, for a one year old. I still don't get why it's such a big deal. Am I crazy, or is it everyone else?

It was exciting for Goosey, being at her Grandma's always is because there is so much new stuff to terrorize and get into. Like all the breakable things and collectible dolls that are all over the floor (yep, all over the floor. It takes eagle eyes to hang out over at the Shopping Queens house.)

Goosey made out like a bandit with the presents; toys, clothes, books, a collectible precious moments doll. Yes, that's right someone gave her a collector doll. When I opened the box I read the tag that said 'this item is NOT a toy...' and the advice began. "You should put her hairnet back on." "Keep the box, you ALWAYS keep the box for collectible items." "I gave Goosey's cousin one collectible doll every year until she was ten." "Our mom would let us play with our special collectible dolls twice a year." I had no idea what to say, I believe that toys are meant to be played with, not to sit on shelves. I pretended to really take the advice to heart, and put the doll back in the box. What else could I do with all of Mr. NH's family giving such great advice about it.

There was Pooh cake with pink icing, and not the good kind, but the stuff that tastes terrible. Goosey got her hands in it, but didn't like the sticky feeling. So rather than eat most of it, she flung it on the floor.

The most exciting thing, wasn't the birthday or the presents or the cake, but the dog. Goosey followed her around the kitchen in circles trying to pet her. It was a nice break for me.

The things that excited me most at the party included these conversation tidbits:

d: "Whatever happened to giving asexual toys to kids?"
s: "It's because girls need girl toys and boys need boy toys. Girls should be at home learning from the mother, like cooking and cleaning."
(I didn't say they were all good exciting...)

f: "Can you look at my foot and tell me what's wrong with it?"
Mr. Nh: "Ok, but is it clean?"

f: "Netty pots are messy and don't feel good."
m: "Have you used one?"
f: "No, but it sounds like it would be messy."
d: "S would be using one every half an hour if she got one, she always has sinus problems."
s: evil, evil glare to her husband d.

me: "Goosey, you want to hold your cousins hand?"
cousin: "I'm not holding her hand, too much frosting."
a: "Wimp."

And the conversation with the Spiritual Mother about the final transition of changing from calling her son Rachel/she to Trey/he. I could see Mr. NH's aunt trying as hard as she could to pretend like she wasn't listening to the conversation. She is a staunch christian who believes in everything the bible says, especially about marriage and lifestyle 'choices.'

It was a nice enough party, but I am so glad that it's done.

One year old Yoda girl.