Last weekend was a particularly good one. As soon as we could, we raced north on Friday afternoon for a birthday party. But this was no ordinary birthday party. It was in honor of my Dad's 60th birthday. We planned it a few days early because it was supposed to be a surprise party. It didn't work that way since someone told him (and I'll skip over our immense disappointment and healthy anger). We arrived and immediately dived in to help. Since my parents are going on a Hawaiian cruise to celebrate, the party was a luau. We served Hawaiian haystacks for dinner, invited Polynesian dancers for entertainment, decorated beautifully with leis and flowers and greenery and then finished off the evening with a soft-serve ice cream bar. (We had rented the machine for the occasion and it turned out to be a brilliant plan. I am now inspired and investigating starting a home business of renting out such machines for special occasions.) The party was a blast, I think my dad thoroughly enjoyed it and I know my little girls were thrilled. The loved the special skirts Grammy gave them upon our arrival and went crazy over the leis and flowers everywhere. Then they took to the stage for dancing and practicing the "hula hoop". Butterfly painstakingly demonstrated and instructed several guests on proper "oo-la" dancing. During the entertainment, they were invited up to learn some of the dances and loved it. My sisters and I were also invited up to learn some of the dances. We were probably less enthusiastic but played along. Especially when we got to drag our husbands with us. My dad, the guest of honor, was called up to so that together, we would demonstrate that we were hopelessly bad at following directions but collectively have a great (albeit, a little twisted) sense of humor. We had to "make our fruit salad" (papaya=hips to the right, mango=hips to the left, etc) and then our brave husbands and to "defend the fruit salad" and they earned countless bonus points for being good sports about it. My little Lovely was another hit of the evening. She pattered up to the front of the stage and imitating the host, announced "O-ha!" (aloha) as loud as she could. It was adorable! We got to visit with cousins and friends and the girls got to run nonstop and devour vast quantities of ice cream, thereby making it really quite the perfect party.
While the party itself wasn't a surprise, we did manage to pull off a few of the exciting details. My sister, currently living in Florida (working for "the mouse") got to fly home for the weekend to attend the party. And second, was the gift that I had been working on for several weeks. I borrowed the brilliant idea from Husband's side of the family and it worked out wonderfully. I emailed family and friends, former students, co-workers, neighbors, scouts and anyone else I could find contact information for, asking them for help. According to legend, Ernest Hemingway once wrote a six-word story ("For Sale: baby shoes, never worn.") Citing this, I asked everyone to join me in that profound brevity by writing six-word stories about my dad. We compiled these to create an incredible and powerful and wonderful treasure, book of memoirs and tributes. I typed the stories, printed them on index cards, backed them with colorful paper and inserted them into a photo album. Mixed with these quotes, was pictures sent from friends and family or dug out of my mom's collection, ranging from his youth to recent. I was so touched by the things people wrote, feeling honored by their words and so incredibly grateful for my dad, for all the lives he has touched and by how eager people were to offer their sincere affection. I presented the book to him at the party, and then left it out for guests to see. It was hours later at home, when he finally got to go through it, and actually see each picture and entry. I told Husband that this was the part I had been looking forward to for weeks. He laughed out loud and pictures or memories, shared stories behind various quotes or tenderly acknowledged the sentiment someone shared.
We spent the night at my parents' house. But early in the morning, I had to slip away for an all-day training. But the rest of the family continued to celebrate. My brother and his wife invited everyone together for the blessing of their baby. After which, Butterfly went shopping with the women (Grammy, Grandma-Great and a favorite Auntie) while Husband kept the two little girls for errands, cuddles and naps. Apparently while shopping, Butterfly was eager to pick things out for these ladies that she loves so much. And since purple is all of their favorite color, she was regularly drawn to suggesting purple things. She picked out purple shoes for Grammy and a purple negligee for my Aunt (who apparently declined).
Meanwhile, I earned my Zumba certification. It was an all day workshop that I had registered and paid for before I realized all the great family stuff I'd be missing. But since the training isn't offered regularly, I had to take it when I could. We started with a master class and then alternated between lecture and workshop to break down the various dances, learn the format and more. It was a great day, I learned a lot and I'm really excited about it. I started taking Zumba several years ago and then stopped when we moved here. Then I've taken them on and off for the last year, thoroughly enjoying it and finally deciding to certify, hoping to learn more, to eventually get the chance to teach or simply because it will make me a better instructor in other things too.
After training, the whole family met for Chinese food. The kids were in a great food, the food was tasty and no one complained about how sweaty and smelly I was, so it was a great dinner. We spent the night at my parents' house again but left in the wee hours of the morning (we call it stupid o'clock) to take my sister to the airport. And by this time, the intense cold I had been ignoring was refusing a backseat and I finally acknowledged the stuffy head, fatigue, chest tightness and body aches. We arrived home, put the kids back to bed, husband finished packing and left with his parents for a work trip. The kids let me sleep a few hours but soon we had to make a trip to the store to stock up on OJ and cold meds. The cold was mean was fortunately brief and has mostly subsided, leaving just an irritating cough. So we meandered through another week with preschool, ballet classes, classes at the gym, little projects and more, eager for the weekend and Daddy's return home.
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