A Birthday Post

It's been two weeks since I've blogged. I guess that's what joining Facebook will do one's initiative to write. At first I thought the whole Facebook thing was a time waster; however, I've found a few people that I've not had contact with for a while such as college friends and people we knew from when we lived in Savannah.

So yesterday was Doodlebug's birthday. My baby is ten years old! And I'm feeling it. I feel old.

I wanted to give Doodlebug something special for her tenth birthday like a special necklace or charm bracelet, but I never found time to go by myself to get something like that. We did have a big cookout this past Saturday with church friends and Doodle invited a few of her special friends, too. She had fun and received many nice things including three gift cards which she loved.

I had planned to wait until after her birthday party to shop for her so I wouldn't duplicate anything. But she really wanted to open gifts from us at her party so everyone could see what all she got from us. I figured I'd get her a few little things for her party then give her something more special for her actual birthday. But it just didn't work out that way. We probably spent more on the cookout than we did for her birthday at Monkey Joe's last year. The present we gave her she loved. One of the things I gave her was a pink file box full of office supplies. It seems a strange gift perhaps, but I knew she'd love it. I spent a bit more than I thought I would putting it together, but Little Munchkin and I had fun doing it. Since Doodlebug has been pretending to run a jewelry shop from her bedroom, I thought a few official looking supplies would add to her fun.

And, of course, the Poppa came over for Doodlebug's actual birthday, yesterday and took her out to a Japanese steakhouse. Her choice. He also gave her money which she promptly spent. Despite my feeling of letdown at not commemorating her birthday with a special present, Doodlebug seemed quite content with the events surrounding her tenth birthday. That's what really matters, I suppose.

Why is it when I want to write about something it comes out sounding bland. Like this post. Ho hum. My baby is ten, dang it! Why couldn't I make a post about it more interesting?!

A neighbor was telling me recently that she is going back to college to finish her degree in communications. She said she's really good at it, and she's glad that after thirty-eight years she's finally found something she's really good at. Now why can't I be that confident. I haven't actually seen anything this neighbor has written so I'm not sure if she is as good as she says she is or not.

I had more to say, but it'll have to wait.