Well, it was Friday (mine). I got lots of wonderful gifts, but I've two favorites.
I gave Sicily a doll I had when I was little a couple of years back. Sicily named her "Miss Mary Mack." She has since lost her hair and dress and is often relegated to the far corner of the room at bedtime. Once, I asked Sicily why.
"She's really mean to my other dolls, Mom. She's not allowed on the bed because she's always poking or hitting or saying mean things. It's her punishment."
I was sad for Miss Mary Mack.
"I understand that you have to put limits on that sort of behavior, and I applaud you for that, but you've got to show her a little kindness every once in a while so she knows what it's like. After all, she did spend twenty years in a dark box in the attic. That's bound to make any doll a little mean."
Sicily looked up at me, shocked and angry. "Mom, did you put her in a box in the attic for twenty years?"
"No, I think Bapcia (my mother - Polish for grandmother) did. But you can't really blame her - that's what all Mom's do to toys when their little girls are growing up and stop playing with them."
I could see Sicily struggling with empathy for Miss Mary Mack, and I noticed over the next few weeks she slowly brought her back into the fold and showed her how to get along in polite doll society.
On Friday, I was home with a not-so-sick Sicily, and she made me a present while I was running. She kept it a secret and presented it in front of a small group of friends and family Friday night at The Pizza Joint.
Miss Mary Mack was all dolled up in Sicily's first dance recital costume and she pinned fabulous firework hair to her head to cover her baldness.
"She's yours, mom! I'm giving her back to you. She can sleep with you now, so you won't get lonely." I smiled and gave her a big hug.
About three weeks before my birthday, Jack, Caitlin, Sicily and I were eating lunch together. When Jack learned my birthday was coming up, he started drawing on my hands. I wasn't paying attention, and the conversation moved on. Finally I looked down and asked Jack what he was doing. "Balloons on your fingers, Mom. For your birthday." I took a picture when I got back to my office so I would remember.
Yeah, I'm a little over-addicted to solarize camera effect right now. I'll move on at some point.
Overall, I had a good weekend. The most surreal moment was doing karaoke last nigh in a party room I did not know existed. It was in the back of a Korean dive - disco lights blared around the cramped room. Two fans set on high were attempting to staunch the heat coming from the crowd and the hot soup that filled the tables. A high definition screen played Asian videos that were so strangely unrelated to the song choices my friend's date was pounding into a large remote control, it was like constant comedy throughout the evening. Military scenes on "Sweet Caroline." A car chase during Guns n' Roses "Paradise City." I finally got up on the last song and sang with someone I'd just met - "Sister Christian," even though we had been there for three hours and they ran out of cold beer long ago after the first round. It reminded me of singing it over and over with my sister in our bedroom closet when I was a little girl. I'd never done karaoke. It was fun.