A Jen Too Many

It is the Season of Birthdays here in our house. They start in September and keep on until January. There's a lonesome one out there in the middle of nowhere in the spring, to give us all a lift and legal excuse to eat sugar, but that's it. It all comes down starting -

Five, four, three, two, one -

Now.

The girls are practically beside themselves with excitement, Youngest Girl Child especially. She has been asking me when her birthday is since, oh, 30 minutes after opening the presents for her last birthday.

Oldest Girl Child went through the same thing, at the same age. We endured a full year of at least weekly petitions to know when was her birthday coming, and was it today? Tomorrow? Next week? It was only one year. I guess she was old enough on her next birthday to realize that it was going to be a loooong time before there was another day just for her, and it was better to focus on the upcoming Christmas presents.

I am hoping (oh, so hoping!!) that YGC will stop this after her birthday, too, because I can endure a year of this. I'm not so sure I can handle two years.

Meanwhile, I was foolish enough two years* ago to promise YGC she could have her first birthday party this year (the same age at which OGC had her first birthday party.) Unfortunately, what one does the other wants to do, and neither is old enough to grasp that a birthday party two years ago is equivalent to one your sister is having this year. So, OGC is having a party, too.

The RSVPs are piling up for the first party, and the numbers of guests are mysteriously increasing. What happened? And will I survive?

Maybe I'll get lucky, and a black hole will swallow the Earth before the day of the party.
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*Note to self: Never again make promises two years in the future. It is not comfortably far away. It is coming at you all too quickly and you will hate yourself.