Fraught with ridiculosity, replete with foolishness.

This year, October 18th is the day we're hosting The Kid's birthday party. Until about a month and a half ago, we agreed that she would have her birthday at Libby Lu, a mall establishment where she and a number of friends would get their hair and makeup done, get to dance to loud Hannah Montana and Jonas Brothers music, and be extra girly, all for only $35 per girl. I was fine with that, because I traditionally go all out when planning a party for her, and I thought it would be nice to let someone else take care of it, and all I would have to do is throw money at them.

It was a nice, nice thought. For some unknown reason, Libby Lu became SO YESTERDAY, and big ol' idiot me, said, "How about a fairy party?" because I had seen ONE book about how to make teensy weensy food, and everyone who knows me knows the teensier something is, the more I like it. (Flashback to an early date with Zach--I told him I liked tiny things, and he said, "Oh, then you'll LOVE me!") At any rate, the fairy party idea was met with great enthusiasm, and so I embarked upon an odyssey of planning, shopping and spending that has consumed the better part of my life. I am not content to buy a Party In A Box, oh no. I must do it all myself. Therefore, I will lay out for you now the Party Plans from Hell.

I have made:

9 fairy skirts, each requiring 1/8 yard of green satin, two entire rolls of 6-inch wide tulle in two different colors, looped together and tied in knots, 7 satin flowers and 7 irridescent plastic beads, plus some hand sewing and some machine sewing.

9 fairy flower wands, each requiring one large silk flower, cut down to size with wire cutters, two squares of dark green tulle, each with three holes poked in it and threaded up onto the stem, waxed florist tape, and about three yards of coordinating ribbon. Also spray glitter.

9 flowered head wreaths, each requiring 1/3 of a daisy swag, a length of florist's wire, one large silk rose, plus one dozen each tiny roses and tiny daisies in coordinating colors, and two lengths of ribbon, knotted at the end and cut on the diagonal.

9 wooden initials, each sanded, painted seafoam green, covered with glittery topcoat, hangers screwed into the back and pink ribbons tied on for hanging.

9 papier mache eggs, painted first off-white, then covered with a pearlescent topcoat. Irridescent jewels were glued on, and then the glue around the jewels was covered with glitter. Finally, the eggs were covered with more glitter topcoat.

9 necklaces made of sheer green ribbon with a crystal pendant.

9 goody bags, containing chinese yo-yos, rock candy on a stick, a small spiral lollipop, stickers, cool erasers, stick-on-body jewels, and notepads with unicorns on them.


I have bought:

One dozen fairy wings (white)

One Pin the Horn on the Unicorn game

One blue and purple flower pinata

Toys and candy to fill the pinata.

25 white balloons for a game we'll be playing.

10 completely different floral saucers from the secondhand store.

10 completely different floral teacups from the secondhand store.

4 different white bud vases from the secondhand store.

Floral paper plates

Floral napkins

Plastic cups and forks

Off-white tablecloth

Pink and green streamers

Sparkly makeup


I have rented:


One kid-height 6-foot-long table

9 kid-size yellow chairs


I have hired:


Miss Myia, one of Zoe's former dance teachers to play the part of the Fairy Queen.

Miss Lindsey, Zoe's babysitter from the summer to help out.


Food will be:


Miniature pizzas

Miniature sandwiches

Fruit salad

Fairy kabobs (made with marshmallows and maybe blueberries)

Lemonade with pink ice

and each child will have her own individually decorated cake on the china saucer to eat with miniature chocolate dipped ice cream cones and "tea" which will probably be warm cider.

Am I crazy? Um, yes.

She just keeps doing this "growing up" thing.

First tooth lost on Thursday, October 9th, while eating pizza for dinner at her friend Cole's house. She swallowed the tooth, but the Tooth Fairy came anyway, because she's cool like that. The other front middle tooth next to it is loose, as well.

I remember feeling stressed about having an infant, then stressed about having a toddler, and I like this age right now, having conversations with her, singing hawaiian songs before bed, going on nature scavenger hunts around the block or listening to her read to me. She's tall, she's beautiful, she's crazy-smart, and she has an imagination that won't quit. And yet, sometimes when I see so clearly how grown-up she is, I miss that infant, and I miss that toddler. Five years went by in a wink, and in another five years, she'll be 10, maybe she'll have glasses, maybe she'll be a bit chubby, and five years after that, she'll be 15 and hate my guts just because. That's only two winks away, and if I wink again, she'll be gone. And although I know she'll probably take over the world, I don't want to send her out into it without me by her side, protecting her.

Damn. I never would have had a kid if ANYBODY had told me it would rip my heart out!

Thanks for not telling me.

Then again, maybe not.

This was not what we (I) bargained for when picking Moe up from the surgeon. He had a partial cystectomy--about 1/3 of his urinary bladder removed. Incontinence and blood are not the most pleasant of mixes, but we got by with plenty of Simple Green and paper towels. We were intially worried that he would remain this way forever, but now that it's been two weeks or so, he's back to being Moe, with the one exception that he no longer has his famous "camel bladder," and about every other night, wakes me up to go outside sometime around 3 a.m. This is a small price for me to pay for not having to wash the bedsheets and blankets daily, which was what was happening, for awhile. And before you say to me very slowly and clearly, so that I, as an obvious retarded person can understand, "Then why did you let him sleep on the bed, Stef?", I'll tell you why. One, he gets fretful if we're on the bed, and he's not, and two, he had diapers. Yes, diapers. Specially made for dogs with issues, complete with tail hole. And while those diapers did keep the majority of the urine off the bed, it wasn't always 100% effective. Plus, I really like the feeling of bedsheets fresh out of the wash, all tucked in tightly and smoothly, so I didn't mind too much. And he couldn't help it. Poor guy had a staple IN HIS WINKIE.

As a matter of propriety, I have blurred out said winkie in the photograph below. It might be hard to see very well, but he has a scar running from the bottom of his ribcage down to the side of his penis. It doesn't look too shocking now--I should have taken the photo before the staples were taken out.

Anyway, the most important part of this whole thing is that after we paid an obscene amount of money for this, his second surgery and hospitalization, bought dog diapers and pee-pee pads to put all over the house, and waded up to our ankles in urine and blood, the pathology report came back and . . . let the suspense build for a moment. . . he hadn't had a relapse of the cancer. What they saw on the ultrasound was inflammation, after all. Yeah. Thank Gawd and yippee for Moe, and #%*&! for the checkbook. This all comes from veterinary medicine not having access to all the equipment that human medicine does. Had Moe been human, he would have had a cystoscopy, where they would snake a scope into his bladder to see what was going on. They could have also biopsied a sample while in there, and sent THAT to pathology, instead of 1/3 of his bladder. The oncologist mentioned a cystoscopy, but said that he didn't actually know of anyplace doing them on systems this small. We were thinking of calling A&M, which does cutting edge research since they have a wonderful veterinary school, but he doubted they had it, either. Personally, I prefer dogs to many, many people, and firmly believe they should have access to the same technologies we have. But I am also a borderline Crazy Dog Lady.

So Moe is doing well, and is his old self, and I am so very glad of that. Another good thing is that Capital Area Veterinary Specialists, the office where he sees his oncologist and surgeon, is probably going to take me on as an intern. So, yay me, also. I'm very excited about the prospect, but haven't got all the details just yet. What's nice is that it is about two exits off of the freeway beyond Zoe's school, so I could drop her off, go to work, and then pick her up afterward very neatly.

So ends the continuing Saga of the Bladder. I am glad it is over, and happy to say that Moe is right now sleeping on the floor next to me. Good doggie.