It's not even Monday yet and X is all ready trying to get out of school.
I'm also trying to recover from a party weekend I never dreamt of in college, the birthday party extravaganza weekend.
X officially turns seven today!
My baby is seven years old.
To celebrate we threw a birthday party for him on Saturday with some friends and his first grade class.
Neither J nor I was prepared for the anxiety, excitement, and chaos that surrounds a seven year old's birthday, especially one that includes the entire class.
The excitement started at 6:55 am, with X waking me up announcing that Pokemon was on in 5 minutes.
X generally wakes up moving full throttle, but this was his "birthday weekend." He wasn't moving anywhere.
He was, however, letting me know exactly what I should be doing to prepare.
By 1pm I was relaxing on the deck enjoying the calm before the storm.
Did the storm ever come: in the form of 15 first graders.
First they conquered the trampoline and then they decided to take over the house while I set up a fake tattoo station in our living room while Jon and fam prepared birthday cake.
I underestimated the energy of excited children. For two full hours it was nonstop chatter, movement, dancing, squeeling, and smiling.
Thank goodness for all the friends and family who helped.
What I also did not anticipate was the feeding frenzy of little girls shoving and pushing to sit beside MY SON.
I'd heard rumors he was a little romeo, but he's made it clear he is more interested in his friends. I'm not so sure the girls are getting that message from the way they battled for his attention.
His birthday energy lasted from 6:55 am to 7 pm that evening and ended with his cousin throwing his favorite toy on the ground and x throwing an excitement filled, sugar high birthday tantrum.
Just the way the day should go.
Sunday started events all over though, because it was Cole's birthday party.
Needless to say, we need a break from the weekend.
Monday is not going to be our break.
I'm luring X to school with the fact it is his real birthday and he gets to bring in cake wearing a Prince's hat.
I'm running to Dartmouth for a bone density scan so I can have more evidence about how much i have destroyed my body.
As if listening to my lungs gurgle and wheeze when i wake up in the middle of the night, dragging a ten lb. oxygen tank around, and having tentacles protruding my chest isn't punishment enough.
My funk from last week hasn't lifted.
But I think it will start tomorrow. Maybe it's all ready starting.