We got her a vanity for her birthday. She has no idea. We bought it for her so she would stop hogging the bathroom in the mornings, and I didn't have to wake up to banging on a door and screams of "Get OUT, I HAVE TO PEE" from The Ginger.
I swear, you would have thought I was telling her she had to go to school wearing footie pajamas covered in cutesy owls, for the amount of arguing she did this morning. In the end I won. Why? Because I'm the mom, that's why. I always win. I'm too stubborn to let my kids win anything.
So out the door she went, cutesy owl bag full of cupcakes in her hand. I had to wait for Hubby to get home from work, but when he did, he immediately started putting the vanity together in her bedroom. Easy peasy, right?
Wrong. The Girl is 11, which means her room is nowhere near clean. She swears she cleans it, and upon first glance it looks to be clean, but we made the mistake of moving the bed about 6 inches from its original spot...
I warn you now. Don't ever do that. As a parent, don't EVER move your child's bed 6 inches from its
original spot. NEVER EVER DO IT. Hubby just stared at the floor for a minute before the curiosity killed me and I looked myself. Crumpled clothes, homework papers from 6 months ago, popcorn, something we *think* used to be a gummy bear... it was gross. So, we did what any parent would do... moved the bed back without touching a thing. Tomorrow she'll clean it. I won't make her do it on her birthday, but tomorrow it's on like Donkey Kong.
I threw my hands up in the air and decided that a very minimal cleaning was needed, just so the vanity presentation after school wasn't ruined. I grabbed the vacuum, put dirty clothes in her hamper, picked the miscellaneous crap from her floor and put it onto her bookshelf and dresser, and made her bed. That in itself is a birthday present The Girl should be happy to have gotten.
Everything's in place, now just to make the mint cheesecake bars she requested and the crab salad for dinner, and we'll be playing the waiting game until she gets home. She has a party planned on Saturday, with an awesome activity planned. If it works well, I'll tell y'all about it next week. If it bombs, then I never mentioned a thing...
11 years ago today I gave birth to The Girl after 29 1/2 hours of labor. She was a pain in the ass coming into this world, and continues to be a pain in my ass every day since then... And I wouldn't have it any other way. Even on her birthday she wants to argue incessantly about taking cupcakes to school in an owl bag... a damn cute owl bag, if I do say so myself.
But she's my baby girl, always will be. And she's growing into a beautiful young lady, which means her dad wants to stock up on guns now to scare the boys away. Good luck... he'll need an entire arsenal.