If you ever want to feel super lazy head to Rachel Ross’s blog. She’s an Ironman champion who runs more in a day than I do all year. She’s truly a junkie, but she pops triathalons instead of Vicoden (actually she pops Valium, but she’s got some migraine issues right now). Anyway, she blogged about the birthday party I had this weekend so I thought I’d share her post versus write one myself becausue I am lazy and she is Ironmom. I am, I don’t know, Anemiamom.
Here’s Rachel…

My friend Kaui had a birthday party tonight. I never thought I would be raising my kids with the kids of my high school friends, but every couple there contained a classmate. And I loved it. I love raising my kids here where I grew up. Kaui’s backyard view makes me feel like I’m back in Tahiti. The parties start like this:And by dark, the grown-ups are beating the hula girl pinata and mini airplane-booze bottles are falling out. Hula girls as pinatas may not have been especially well thought-out. There were cries of “rip off her leg!” and “go for the head!” that may have not been appropriate for a younger child’s birthday party. The mix of candy, whiskey bottles and condoms that came out of her beaten torso were only slightly more inappropriate than Kaui’s mom busting some of the parents smoking contraband outside her bedroom window. When the hula girl exploded, Pat warned the kids that the pinata was full of chores to keep the condom questions at bay.

I had no talent for the talent show that preceded dessert. But Henry rocked it with armpit farts. My husband drank enough to motivate me to start driving again…

Thank you, Rachel, for your insights and for partying with me since 1990. Good to know some things don’t change (except for the fact that you have three kids (one who speaks, as you say, like a New Yorker with a clothes pin pinching his nose) and you’re an athletic supahstar. Whatever. I hit girls harder than you. Exhibit A: Me
You
That’s all.