My aunt has been visiting from Pennsylvania and is staying over Ethan's birthday celebration (which I've all but declared a national holiday, much to everyone's annoyance, but come on, birthdays are a big deal!) and Ethan has taken no time to warm up to her presence in my mom's already chaotic home, as well as the fact my sister is out of school for summer break. Ethan is fairly certain that his Aunt Megan is the most brilliant, wonderful, fascinating, amazing human being of all time and she is sure to soak up all of the attention he gives her by ensuring he learns the important things in life, like how to imitate Lil' Jon. As long as she's laughing, he does anything she says. This is both good and bad. Teenagers.
We have spent the past few days engulfed in errand-running family style, four of us lollygagging through the grocery store for two hours and ten minutes (I wish I was kidding) and general family time with my aunt and sister. Ethan has been soaking it all up happily, the commotion and shlepping around and constant chaos, including the frantic "Ethan's hungry!" battlecries that accompany so many Jewish mothers under the same roof. "No one feeds you," my aunt will sympathize as she gives my thirty-six pound child another pretzel rod. It's what we do.
There are three days until Ethan's birthday party and I'm strangely calm about it all. This is an out of character thing for me. I thrive in chaos and on deadlines and the prospect that I just might not finish what it is I'm working on on time, and having things under control isn't something I'm used to. My biggest concern are the red welts swelling on my poor child's legs, courtesy of some relentless Mosquitos who didn't seem to get the memo that this is Ethan's birthday week and nothing is allowed to go wrong. We almost made it to two without the aid of Benadryl, which I assumed was a feat for a usually barefoot asthmatic toddler in South Florida with parents allergic to everything under the sun. Here's to milestones, even the unfortunate ones (which are nothing a little chocolate icecream can't fix).