Happy Birthday Ashton

I am a horrible mother.



My sweet boy turned 15 on Friday. He has not gotten a present. He didn't get a real birthday card, although I did write him a 2 page birthday letter which I think is better.



His father ate the Oreo's that were going to be used in the Oreo Truffles that I planned on making him. Then his father ate a really large piece of his birthday cake before Ashton even came home from school.



Middle child. Issues. Therapy.




In my defense, the reason he doesn't have a birthday present is because he can't decide for sure what he wants. He has picked out at least 3 pairs of shoes because the child is the male version of Imelda Marcos. He still can't decide. Then he thought he might want a PS3 and of course, when you already have 3 game systems, why wouldn't you want another one. He was less undecided about that when I explained that as much as we love him we are not dropping that much money for another game system. Back to the drawing board.



He did manage to have friends over for his birthday on Friday night. How many? I really am not sure because they were like zombies appearing from the grave as they came up the steps on Saturday morning to eat 3 pounds of bacon, 2 dozen doughnuts, and a pan full of biscuits. Not to mention all the orange juice and milk in the house. This is what you get when you have teenage boys! Oh to have their metabolism. I believe that our final head count may have been 10 but I still am not sure.




So after working all night Friday night and coming home to the House of the Living Dead (and Hungry), we headed out to Emma's soccer GAMES. Let me say, the first one was at 9:45 and these kids were on fire. Well, one girl was. I think she scored all of the 8 points. Thank God she is on our team. Emma got to kick the ball each time for the kick off. Is that what it's even called? I don't really know a lot about soccer. She also did a lot of running and continues to come over to me after each play to give me five. After the first game I had planned on going home to catch a nap, but being the dedicated soccer mom that I am......I stayed for the second game at 11:15. The 45 minute intermission spent on the playground coupled with the rain showers didn't help our players much in the second game. As a matter of fact, it was a total wash. There were kids rolling on the ground wrestling (our players), crying, picking clovers, eating Nachos on the sideline (my daughter). It was hilarious. Except for the parents that take it all seriously and didn't see the humor in it. Those were probably the parents that had slept all night and had not been up for 24 hours. I thought it was a blast. You can't pay good money to watch that type of entertainment.




After the loss, we headed home for an approximate 2 hour break before heading to dinner with Bo's family to celebrate Ashton's big day. Emma managed to avoid a nap altogether except for the 20 minutes in the car. We still managed to have a great dinner and she ate like a starved little creature. We ate at Kobe's and she enjoyed the show and kept saying "Hot". She ate rice, zucchini, steak, and ice cream. Of course she had to use her chop sticks. Well, not for the ice cream.



Back home, finally to bed!! Aside from the Tuberculin cough, I slept soundly until sweet Emma was awake at 5 a.m. and ended up in our bed. I wish I could say she was a sweet angel, but it was like having a donkey in bed with us. Kick, Kick, Stomp, Stomp. My Lord this girl is a brute.




Sunday was spent going to church and having Ashton's "girlfriend" over for the afternoon. That involves numerous trips up and down the steps to keep a watch on things. Of course you pretend you need things out of the freezer and you are doing laundry and whatever else you can think of. I wouldn't want them to think we were checking up on them......



So my baby boy is 15. No picture on the blog, No present. No truffles. Partially eaten cake. No real birthday card. Poor kid. I think he isn't too upset with me. As stoic as he is, I even got a smile out of him yesterday after he read his birthday letter. As with most 15 year olds, those smiles are hard to come by sometimes. Of course, he was probably just trying to manipulate the situation so that he could get 2 pairs of shoes to add to his collection.