Today's birthday post comes from Jaci, who writes at Ravings of a Mad Housewife. Jaci is one of my very favorite bloggers! She makes me laugh, and 1/2 the time when I read her posts, I feel like I could have written them myself.
It's been especially fun reading Jaci's blog the last 10 months because she and I got pregnant at the same time! By the time you read this post, we'll both have little newborns - she's due just 3 days before me. It was so much fun having another blogger at the same stage as me to relate to and laugh (and whine) with!
If any moms-to-be are trying to plan the perfect time of year to totally blow out your girlie bits and squeeze a new life into this world, let me be the first to scream, "DON'T DO IT IN AUGUST!" I was born on 8-8-80, so I'm an expert on this. (Let me answer all the questions people normally ask when I rattle off my birth date: Yes, I'm serious. Yes, it's easy to remember. No, I'm not going to play all 8's and win the lottery.)
My parties were always outside, Mom could go all cheap and have bologna sandwiches on paper plates and no one thought less of her because holy-crap-it's-freaking-hot-who-wants-to-eat, and hello? Ice Cream Cake? The August birthday rocked for Mom and her minimal party planning.
But for little Jaci, my August B-day sucked hard. After going through an entire school year of being handed birthday invitations by Heathers, Jennifers, Jessicas, and Lindseys (surprise, no one else was named Jaci) and dragging gifts to parties stuffed full of at least 15 girls from my class, I should have the same type of party in August--right?
School ended in June, so I couldn't exactly hand out my invitations in class. And in the 80's, Mom's didn't set up "play dates" and keep a stash of their kid's friend's numbers by the phone. You went outside and played with the weird kids in the neighborhood--and DON'T SLAM THE SCREEN DOOR--IN OR OUT!
My birthdays were sad, pathetic little family affairs. If my best friend Joy wasn't on vacation she'd come over. (She was usually on vacation.) Sometimes Michael (the boy across the street who peed in his Dirt Place and ran around pretending to be HeMan screaming, "I have the POWER!") would show up uninvited and I had to hide from him. But to have a big, fun, all-about-ME! slumber party with the entire 5th grade class? Never.
Even worse? I spent all year shelling out gifts for school friends only to get jack crap in exchange! Where's my Barbie dolls?!? And my puzzles?!? AND MY FREAKING CARDS STUFFED FULL OF $10 BILLS?!?!
Do your unborn child a favor and just wait a month. Give birth in September, okay?