Nine Years Today

The new nine-year-old awoke early, eager to see what his birthday would bring.  For starters, balloons (not helium, just good ol' Mom's hot air), internet printouts of Star Wars images, and large "9's" hung in the boys' bedroom and in the kitchen eating area.  Heading out to school, Jameson had in his backpack stretchy little animal thingies to hand out to his classmates (at Ms. Stout's discretion as to timing, I reminded).  

Unfortunately, our attempts to get through to his birth mother's cell phone after school and before supper were unsuccessful.  We will try, again, tomorrow evening.  I so wanted for Jameson to speak with the woman who gave life to him -- ON the anniversary date of his birth.  I wanted it for her, too.

Realizing it was beyond our control, we shifted attention to dinner, which was the choice of the birthday lad -- Haitian Spaghetti.  (Thank you, Mary Ann, for the practice.)

Gift-opening then commenced  .  .  . and he was all smiles.  We were all chuckles after he opened the Star Wars vehicle doohickey toy thing and out came his long-standing mispronunciation of "clones" -- "Are there clowns in here?"  Okay, so if you're a Star Wars fan, or even if you've just been privy to some parts of some of the films by association or bad timing (I kid, I kid, they're fun movies), you should be able to smirk (at least) at the idea of a young boy playing with his brother and repeatedly calling the intimidating, white-plastic-armor-clad soldiers "clowns." 

And the family celebration was topped off by his choice of white cake with white icing.  (Icing courtesy of my Grandma Jones' fabulous recipe!  And "icing" being a term that sounds ridiculous to the kids, as they imagine, yep, you guessed it -- frozen water; so, I often have to repeat icing-related statements and substitute "frosting" as to reassure them that there will be a gooey, sugary coating on the dessert item being discussed.)

Neapolitan was the closest I could come to his request for ice cream, 'cuz their ain't no banana ice cream or coconut ice cream to be had in any of the three stores to which I ventured this a.m.. 

I was on to his third choice, which he whispered to me last night,

"Strawsberry (2nd 's' not a typo), what Hunter like (w/out strawberry pieces)."

The kid loves his new, older brother, and sheepishly and secretly wanted to please him.  And it dawned on me later that Hunter mentioned several days ago about coconut popsicles being super yummy.  (I think the banana was inspired, perhaps, by Jameson having had some banana popsicles last summer?)  So, at my final grocery stop, I bought both kinds of popsicles (for future after-dinner treats); the big tub of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry was my only chance at scooping up some plain, pink strawberry flavor without any fruit bits, and that gallon became the frozen celebration confection for the night.

No, this Mama doesn't usually travel around on a sugar quest (quiet, Archana!) -- what store #1 has is what we get.  But today was different, and so was the motivation for a kid's request -- it's all sweet.