No Party for Owen

In just a couple of weeks, Owen will be 1.

I didn't send out invitations, I didn't create a birthday party Pinterest board, and I didn't choose a theme. Because we aren't having a party.

But...we are having a small family lunch at home where hotdogs and cake will be served. A homemade funfetti cake...with white icing and sprinkles. Maybe a candle for photo purposes; I don't expect the kid to blow it out. We will sing happy birthday. My parents and sister are coming in town, otherwise we wouldn't even be having the lunch. His birthday is on a Tuesday and the lunch is on the Sunday before.

I've said it once and I'll say it again. I am not a party pooper. But, I don't see the point in having a party and spending money on this for Owen. Please don't get your party planning panties in a wad. I will probably attend whatever party we get invited to (unless it's at that dreadful acid trip mouse themed pizza joint).

Guess what, we might not even have one for his 2nd birthday. Gasp! Somebody call CPS.

Ok ok ok. I'm very excited for him to be 1. I just don't need to throw a party to prove it. 

#dontjudgeamom

Back-to-school makes me angry.

First day of inservice at my new school. "Let's go around and introduce ourselves!" Oh joy. I know this is standard practice. I know it probably happens far more often in a room full of women compared to men. Also, for whatever reason, I hate saying my own name out loud. It's just weird. So, now it's my turn. "I'm Regan Sullivan, this is my first year here and my 6th year teaching." Silence. Boss lady says "Aren't you excited to be here?" Now I have about 30 smiley teachers staring at me "oh I'm super excited!" I say in my bestest cheerleader voice. And then I think I actually heard someone say "yay!" Not in an ironic sarcastic way either. I am excited, I really am, but I can be excited and grumpy at the same time. 

The week went on without any major excitement other than finding out our team meeting would be held during school (not after), and also that I wouldn't have to learn DRA testing because now the kids will test on a computer. I've gotten to know my teacher team that is made up of NINE women. They are all lovely. I say that with sincerity. I like them. I'm sure there will be moments filled with too much estrogen which will cause someone to break down into tears...it could be me. Who freakin knows? I hope it's not.

But, aside from learning all of the extremely important information that I spent literally days learning, I can't think of any specifics right now. I just can't. My brain is goo. Mushy, mushy goo.

On Wednesday my little Owen went to daycare for the first time in his life. I put my trust in an almost stranger and he spent 5 hours at her house. He will go for a full day starting Tuesday. He will only go Tuesdays and Thursdays for a couple of months and then we will probably end up sending him more. She sent me the most precious pictures of Owen playing, eating, and sleeping at her house. He seems to enjoy it there. That's all that  matters. I, on the other hand, was a mess. I cried when the husband went to drop him off. I cried when someone at work asked me about it. And I cried every time she sent me a picture. I stopped myself from asking her a ton of questions. Like: does he seem happy? Did he drink his milk? Don't forget his wubbanub. Did he nap long? Has he cried? Did he like his lunch? 

I'm a control freak, who has to let go.

So back to school makes me angry. It's absolutely wonderful to be a teacher. Work your ass off for 9 months out of the year and take 3 off. But dang! Back to school seems like a shock to the system each time is sneaks up. You just start to become truly relaxed, your baby learns to sleep in until 8am, and BAM! Back to school you go. It's a bummer and it makes me grumpy.