XI

Eleven.

No one seems to learn Roman numerals anymore.  Well, homeschoolers perhaps.  But this is neither here nor there.  I'm here to talk about someone being eleven.



8:08 a.m (a.k.a. "B:OB o'clock"), January 9, 2016 the moment Easton turned 11 years old.  Okay, if we're going to get that technical then probably we should have done it at 4:08 p.m as that's when it's BOB o'clock in Boulder, Colorado where he was born.

Luckily, this year Easton's birthday was on a Saturday.  He woke up to a display of gifts and our apparent tradition (in Berlin) of Dunkin Donuts for breakfast:


He got to open a few things right off the bat:








Then we had a little breakfast.  I made each kid choose a protein to have with their one doughnut.   We put a candle in E's and sang to him.


Then he and Dalton jumped right into checking out some of the new figures he got for the Disney Infinity 3.0 game he got for Christmas.


He opened some more gifts, including this special handmade-by-Autumn card and drawing. <3




And some new shades that aren't covered in cartoon characters.  Trying to look tough:


You look weird: look happy!


Ha!

One of the highlights was the Kylo Ren lightsaber he'd really wanted.  Kylo Ren is the new Star Wars bad guy if you're one of the 10 people who does not yet know.


He played some more and we had some lunch and then headed to see the Peanuts movie that came to Berlin just before Christmas.  He had asked if we could see it for his birthday:


After the movie we went to get ice cream as I'm a bit lame and didn't want to make a cake for just us, a cake for his party, and treats to bring to school.  So, ice cream it was.  And he'd requested I make my homemade mac and cheese for his dinner.  Awww.

He got to open one final present once we arrived home which was a customizable Nerf gun.  He was a happy boy.  Actually he was sad at bedtime that it was all over.  He wisely opted to have his party on a different day so he'd have more time to celebrate himself but was still sad when bedtime came around.

However, he had his party to look forward to the following weekend.  He initially wanted to have a Laser Tag party, but for whatever (odd) reason, you have to be, like, 12 or 14 to play laser tag in Berlin.  A friend from church suggested Go Kart racing as an alternative.  You had to be 9 years old and 1.35 m tall (4' 5").  It ruled out Dalton (and Autumn) for being too short and other friends' siblings for being too young but we booked it anyway and I'm so glad we did.

It was a blast!!


Three of his classmates have had parties this year where they invited the entire class!  One mom even arranged to transport all 16 kids to the party after school on a Friday!  We let Easton invite only 5 friends.  They had two party choices with 2 or 3 races.  2 races would obviously cost a little less and he could add one more friend to the mix but he opted for 3 races with 5 friends.  It was just right. 

But anyway, it was probably one of my favorite parties we've had for the kids.  It was in this really neat indoor track but it wasn't super loud because the carts were electric and it wasn't super crowded either.  They had Mario Kart on the Wii on the wall and some air hockey and a couple other similar games while the kids waited to race.

One kid was late (he's always always always late, poor guy) so Jason raced in his spot for the first race.  Hey, we paid for 6, right?  So fun!  It was only our group racing at one time so there were no random "big kids" ramming into them and the track wasn't too crowded to really "step on it" if you were so inclined. 





It gave you a printout of all the times at the end of the race so the kids could figure out who the winners were.  There was one other party there at the same time and we sort of alternated races. The shorties found ways to entertain themselves:
 











 

In the second race, the poor late kid still wasn't there so one of the taller younger siblings got to fill in.  As soon as that race started, late kid walked in.  You snooze, you lose, cowboy.

At that point, Jason had proposed a grown-ups race as most of the parents had stayed at the Kartbahn because it was too far to go for such a short party.  It was only Jason and me and our Scottish friends that opted to race.  Just the four of us out there and it was SO FUN!  I had so much fun I didn't even care that I came in third.  ;)


The kids (and late boy, finally) had their third and final race.  Easton came off all mad because one of his friends called him a name and he huffed over to me in a big pout to where all his friends thought he was mad that he'd lost.  (He isn't that competitive.)   He got over it and they brought out the pizzas.





I asked (and had assumed) Easton would not eat his whole pizza so I asked him to give a piece to his sister. He refused me but Jason insisted.  Easton made a big, loud complaint about how Dad "made him" and it wasn't fair and blah blah blah. Well, she was still hungry after her first piece so I asked him for another and he said no.  I asked Autumn if she could just wait for some cake to help "fill up".  No.  She needed pizza.  So, I went and ordered another entire pizza for Autumn.  In the meantime, I started to get the cake ready but I look over and see that Easton has one piece of pizza on his plate.  He's full. 

Argh!!!

I was like, "Oh, so too full for cake then?"
"Well, no."
"You are going to finish that piece of pizza."
"But, I can't!"
"Sorry, dude, you made a huge deal of how you were going to eat the whole thing and would not share so I went and ordered another entire pizza for Autumn.  You are going to eat that before we have cake."

I would ordinarily never insist my children eat all of something.  Never.  Except that he was so ugly about how the whole thing was his and he would not share even though I knew he wouldn't be able to eat it all.  So, dude had to learn his lil lesson.  I don't think I was being super mean about it, at least not in a mean tone or anything and I even joked to the others how I'm the meanest mom ever for insisting he finish this before we move on.  All his friends were done and cheering him on, "C'mon, Easton...just eat it!" Like it was a Survivor challenge.

Poor kid.

He got it down and I lit the candles.


And they all had cake.  "Full" Easton had room for seconds somehow.

Autumn was then in tears about, "Do I have to eat pizza first?" and I was like, "Um yes.  You made me order that.  You said you needed it and cake wasn't enough. So yes, you have to eat some pizza first.  Don't worry, your cake will still be there." 

Just call me Mommie Dearest, eh?  ;)

The party finished after some more Wii Mario Karts and just general 5th grader-ing.  This year his party included his Scottish male friend and his Zimbabwean male friend from last year's party and the addition of his German male friend and two girls: one from Iran and one who is German mother tongue but her father is from Palestine originally and they had previously been living in Dubai.  I just love all the international-ness still.  Can't get over it.  Seriously, all our friends back home it was like, "Oh, what hospital was he born in?"  That's about as varied as it got with our friends 'round Denver.

We came home and then Easton was sort of quiet and let me know he was never going to forget how I had embarrassed him. :(  I felt terrible but I was also confused as he'd had a huge grumpy pout when his friend called him an "idiot" and when he argued against having to share any pizza.  Those events apparently weren't embarrassing but me saying, "Sorry dude, you've got to eat it since you said you were going to eat it ALL" in front of his friends was too embarrassing.  And now telling all the internet, of course. 

Being 11 is hard.  Sometimes he feels like a little fella and wants constant snuggles from Mom and then sometimes he cares what his friends think and Mom embarrassed him.  No wonder they call them 'tweenagers.  He is definitely growing up, though, and it's pretty cool to see.

A very happy birthday to our 11 year old!