By the time you read this the social event of the year, nay decade, will be in full swing. No, not Barack Obama’s inauguration extravaganza, our Caolan’s 4th birthday party.
My little guy turns four and we are inviting all of his nursery class friends, his young cousins and friends from the street. Don’t ask me why I do it but there are over 30 children expected to attend. That’s 30 pairs of shoes trampling cake into carpets and going crazy on the white stuff (sugar).
We’re having a pirate themed ‘do’ and I’ve enlisted the entire clan to help out. Uncle Aidan will man the Captain Caolan’s Tattoo parlour which will involve him drawing moustaches on faces and anchors or mermaids on forearms. Granny will man the door, furnishing kids with pirate bandanas and eye patches as they come in. The husband will be in charge of weaponry ie dishing out foam swords and making sure kids go home with all their limbs intact and as many eyes and ears as they came in with.
I’m in charge of getting stressed out over burnt birthday cakes, if there are enough cheesy puffs to go round and how other mothers will judge me on my more shabby than chic home.
This time four years ago I was getting stressed out over when and indeed where my second baby would eventually arrive. Parts of Altnagelvin Hospital were under construction and I left it to my husband (as I was in considerable pain) to direct me to the labour wards. Unfortunately he had not been listening at the ante-natal classes when the midwife told us the extremely important information as to where the new maternity wards had been moved to and we found ourselves wandering around a windy construction site filled with burly builders.
Oh how the husband and I laughed as they told us you can’t summon the lifts from this floor and that the only way up or down was via the scaffolding on the outside of the building. Oh how the blood drained from their faces when I informed them that they then would be delivering our next child and that we shall call him Bob, after the famous builder.
So our son arrived, in the real maternity ward an hour later. And from that day and hour he has brought sunshine into our lives. He’s a real sweetheart, has no patience, could eat for Ireland, is afraid of robot spiders, rarely sleeps all night, loves scary Dalecks, hates friendly monsters and can sing ‘The Wheels on the Bus’ for two hours straight using the same two verses. He breaks everything – toilets, car doors, fridges, remote controls, cups, mobile phones, shoes – and has boundless energy and a fearless spirit. His favourite phrases are ‘Why?’ and ‘Give me…’ and he makes everyone’s day brighter with his laugh.
And that’s why we love him.
Happy birthday baby bear.
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