Happily Ever After...

Ummmm...... yeah. Birthday part 1 is usually followed by part 2. Except when you have my life right now. ~My son is moving next week to VA to start his new life (that doesn't involve us) and we have to move all his wordly goods to a storage unit while he is living in temporary housing and searching for a roommate. ~Lucky for me, the packing and storage unit still involve me, because he is moving away- Did I mention that already? ~MY FIRSTBORN IS MOVING AWAY. There. I said it.(choke...sob...sniffle...) ~His new life may just be with a beautiful Christian girl that has totally captivated him, like we have never seen before. Think Happy Mama tears. And sad. But mostly happy. (I think .) The "How to Parent" manual doesn't detail the conflicted emotions you will feel when your firstborn flies away. Far, far away. So yeah... there's that. I've decided to live in denial for the next few days. We aren't moving our son's wordly...

Gianna has never really had a REAL birthday party. She turned one in China, her second birthday was cancelled due to tornadoes, and we were checking in to the hotel last year on her birthday, the night before being admitted to the hospital for major surgery. She was DUE a fun party this year. We let her chose her party, and she wanted to go back to her beloved dance studio for a princess ballet party. Great choice! Every birthday princess needs her beauty sleep. This was our first attempt at curlers and they turned out so cute-even before we actually took the out! She's dressed and ready for her party! Does she look a little like Betty Boop? To my utter joy, my sweet, squishy baby let me squeeze her like crazy. And recited Genesis 1:1 thirty five times because I asked her to. Surprise! Gianna picked Cinderella as her favorite princess. (again) She is a loyal fan! Aria and her cousin Aspen opted for the oh-so-modest Ariel. Makes a mom proud. Or scared. Mostly the latter. Betty Boop...

Gianna, is well ..... Gianna . She marches to her own beat. Rarely hears your drum, and could care a less if she does. She has HER beat and she is happy, thankyouverymuch. Because of this, we have more than a few exasperated moments. More than a few. (As in, I can easily lose count before 10 AM on how many times I have had to remind myself to be patient, to respond lovingly, and to count to 10.) Case in point : We are rushing around the house trying not to be late for art class, and the ONLY instruction I give her is to put her shoes on, while I: start the car, let the dog out to potty, grab coats, make lunches, find backpacks, throw a load of laundry in the dryer before it mildews, start the dishwasher, find my purse, my shoes, and grab a to-go mug of coffee. And she has been told we are late, so she is well aware of the need to hurry. "Mommy, MOMmy, MOMMMMMMYYYYY. Is this the right foot? Is it? Is this the right foot???" (Mind you, she never actually moves to find me, ins...