"You know, I'd love to attend, but I have this anal probe that I'm really looking forward to." Well, today was D's birthday party (though his birthday was the 20th), and here's a fun fact for the super-chic: being fashionably late isn't just for adult parties anymore. Our first guests appeared an hour late. The party ran an hour late, too, so the time we had expected to use for recovery was cut in half. E did sleep, thank goodness, but man! were we all beat by the end of it.

The first arrivals were, in fact, a family who occasionally babysat for D, so when he saw them, he grabbed hold of my leg and screamed bloody murder, which is a great way to get a party started, of course. I guess he thought we were leaving him with them, but I rather like K's theory, that he thought they came from the hospital and were staying, just like E.

It was the first birthday party to which we exclusively invited kids, although in practice the parents stayed as well. (Previous parties were family, friends, everyone and anyone, you know, the usual new-parent crap.) Thank goodness the parents came; they're all good friends of ours, and since we only invited a few, we actually got to talk to people for a change. Our house is so small that even a mid-range number of people renders a party complete chaos. (Yes, complete chaos is good in college. But for a bunch of toddlers, chaos is a given even without a party.)

D's BIG PRESENT was a tricycle, and naturally he had no interest in it at first, despite the big drum-roll lead in. He may have been confused because when I dragged the trike out of the closet, the new vacuum cleaner came with it, and he worships the vacuum cleaner on high. So maybe the trike was just a letdown.

I had a wee panic attack when the party ended. I couldn't eat dinner when K left the table to feed E. I felt lost and confused, like I needed her to anchor me and help me decide whether to eat the leftover fish or the leftover rice. Eventually, in my addled state, I sat on the couch, and when my head lolled forward and I lost consciousness, K patiently suggested that I put down my Sprite and go upstairs and nap. I did. She tells me I only napped for twenty minutes before she called me to help D with his bath, but I think she's lying. I think it's Sunday already.