06.24.09 :: 3:14 pm

I totally refuse to be one of those moms who bakes a thousand cupcakes and stacks them to look like a miniature replica of Elmo taking a shit or whatever for their kid's birthday party.

Most of the moms I know have made elaborate first birthday plans.

I've given it a passing thought and that's all. At this point, a big to-do is more for the parents than it is for the one year old who'll be subjected to a first sugar high and much confusion.

So we've decided to keep it mellow and grown-up.
A picnic in the park, a minimum of sweets, a maximum of provisions from the local awesomeness and a definite minimum of other babies, save for Oliver's girlpal Julia.

I may keep having grownup birthday parties for him right up until he's old enough to actually want a fucking hideous clown or cheesy singalong.

And then I will kill myself.

Haha. I'm joking. I'll just pop several handful of Ativans.

T-minus 6 weeks until summer frolicking in Greece.

Humid & broiling in Brooklyn. But there's no place I'd rather be.

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