So, yesterday I had the busiest day in the history of busy days. From teaching yoga FIRST THING in the morning, as I do EVERY SUNDAY (dammit — see how YOGIC I am!$@#!%$#!ohhhm), to driving all the way out to nowheresville to pick up the Rascal, to driving all the way out to nowheresville THE OTHER WAY, to go to my friend J-Lyn’s pottery show (BRILLERS, by the way), to going to the toy store to buy a birthday present, to dragging the Rascal out of the toy store by BRIBING him with a toy bus (that we totally didn’t need — even though INVENTORY, MY ARSE — more on that later, trust me, grrrr…), to taking Rascal and the gift we bought, and the toy bus, to a birthday party….

And we all know how much I love — LOATHE — the birthday parties. I loathe them so much I can’t say we’ll be doing one for the Monkey this year. How can I put my friends through it if I LOATHE them myself. I mean, Monkey’s still young enough not to care. Can’t we just have a party with family and the little cousins, and then do a little trip to the country or something? SHUCKS, we could take a frickin’ trip to HAWAII for the same price as a birthday party but without the stress! I mean, why NOT!? If the cast of The Hills can do it at a moment’s notice, so can I, right? Even though I will never again look as good as they do in those bikinis….DAMMIT HATE! Anyway, we’ll see. I just don’t think the Monkey will notice if we have a big to-do with all her friends (from school? from camp? it’s a July birthday…), or a big to-do with just the family….

So, yes, I loathe the birthday parties (except for the CAAAKE – because it’s usually super sugary and vegan because of kids’ allergies — and, OH MY with all the digressions today! must be the caffeine and sugar in that dang Starbucks chai latte I just imbibed; blogging in the morning post-chai just may not do….DIGRESSSS!), and yesterday was painfully busy. I’m lazy by nature. I like mine arse ON MY COUCH.

Anyway, the one thing that REALLY helped me get through the day yesterday was…my brother. Uncle M took Monkey to her first baseball game! So, praise brother, I schlepped all over the city with ONE child, and not TWO. What was especially amazing was that SHE HAD A GREAT DAY and I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT…. He bought her a girlie Toronto Blue-Jays hat, and she got a free Blue Jays T-shirt!

Like, how sweet is THAT? I really must take advantage of ALL MY FAMILY more regularly. He had fun. She had fun. And I got a BIG break. HUGE.

After that huge long day, by the way, we went to Anon’s for dinner — to celebrate his return from the hospital! I’m telling you, what we went through could have been an episode of House with all the doctors gathering ’round and meeting about the unidentifiable ORGANISM. Well, they figured it all out, and all is well. THANK GOD.

By the way? My parents’ dog Quincey says HI….

This is actually a really carpy picture of him because he’s all about the ears; so, here’s another carpy picture showcasing his fabbest feature….

Ooo! I hope my parents don’t mind I didn’t star out his face or give him a blog alias. They’re really intense about the privacy thing (now you know where I get it from…is totally genetic). Oh well.

So, here’s the inventory issue I wanted to talk about for a minute. There’s a certain person on the internet who seems nice enough, but decided to criticize my parenting on her website. It’s not anything serious, but it was still criticism, and I DID NOT LIKE IT. I’m not posting a link to her post because I don’t want to reward her with traffic. Basically, she said that THIS POST…

made me feel better about myself, lol. One of the biggest challenges that we face in parenthood is inventory. I deal with inventory all day with my job and bottomline is this kid has too much of it! Every birthday, every holiday, you’ve got to deplete the inventory!

So, apparently, my kid — “this kid” — has too much “inventory.” Pahlease. It’s called STORAGE. “This kid” does not have enough STORAGE. And it’s called FIRST GRANDCHILD and it’s called ONLY GRANDDAUGHTER and FIRST CHILD and PRE-RECESSION and FORMS BIZARRE ATTACHMENTS. You try taking any one of those toys away from “this kid”: it’s called TRAUMATIC and CHAOS and HAVOC….

Anyway, I don’t think the self-titled “diva” of parenting meant anything nasty by it, really. But, moms need to stick together. I don’t blog here to be criticized (even though that’s going to be inevitable, I know). I blog here to share and document and entertain. Sure, Monkey has a lo-ho-hot of stuff. But, I AM perfectly capable of “depleting the inventory.” I just — personally? — care not to.

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