I’m alive - so is Mike - but just barely. We both feel as if we’ve been hit with a large bus right about now. No, that was just Lily’s birthday. I reminded him tonight what it would have been like if we’d had 19 screaming kids in our house. Good lord. It still took us a few hours to clean up all of the stuff Lily got. It was obscene. I guess I didn’t really think about that when I invited all those kids. You can tell I have working mother’s guilt - the more the merrier! Bring it on!

Her party was a lot of fun and I think the majority of the kids really enjoyed themselves. With a few exceptions, the parents were nice, friendly, and probably relieved that the kids were playing without a whole lot of hand-holding (unless, of course, someone got kicked in the face accidentally or fell on their head).

The festivities continue tomorrow at school, but it’s pretty mellow compared to today. I’ll take some cupcakes in around 2.30, read a book that we’re donating to her classroom, and then head back to finish some work. After that, no more birthdays for the kids until OCTOBER!!!! Hooray!

Meredith and Phil come in 2nd place in the “most annoying toy” award category. Why is it that the loudest toys are always the favorite? They got Lily a tambourine and a microphone and she LOVES it - she kept banging the tambourine and looked like a miniature Steve Nicks. Arden got ahold of it as well and she also fell in love with it. Coming in 1st place was Steve and Vicki and the “Dance Dance Dora” floormat complete with a screaming Dora voice telling you where to step next and some highly irritating tinny technopop blaring at the same time. Thanks, everyone! Much love. And just wait until your kids have a birthday . . . MUAH HA HA HA HA!!!

Lily loves her new Bitty Baby doll that Risa and family sent, and she cradled it in her arms, shoved a bottle down her throat (note to self: do not allow Lily to feed Arden - EVER), pushed her around in the buggy, and changed her clothes. She loves the little suitcase she got with the doll to store all her things in. I finally convinced her not to try to sit in it. She likes the doll because the doll has darker hair and brown eyes like she does. Most of them are blond and blue-eyed.

We had a great rest of the day - had lunch with the family, Jennifer, Troy, Sophia, and Julie, opened more presents, ate a lot of stuff that is bad for us, and just finished cleaning up the kitchen and living room of all of Lily’s loot. She was in hog heaven tonight going from one thing to the next. Arden, thankfully, is still very amused by the wrapping paper and boxes (and that damn tambourine). Everyone went to bed early tonight thank god. I think Mike and I aren’t far behind.

I still can’t believe it’s been 3 years since Lily popped out into the world. It feels like a long time since I was that inexperienced and nervous, but I can still clearly remember my labor nurse telling me, “Girl, stop screamin’ and start pushin’!” I can also still clearly remember that very distinct sensation of my body being torn in half and my spine breaking and the immediate relief that comes after you get that baby out. I don’t remember with such clarity the first year, other than certain brilliantly illuminated memories - like me crying while Lily nursed, sitting topless in front of my sister at the lactation consultant and thinking in a vague, detached way, “Thank god I’m so tired, otherwise this would be REALLY weird,” sleeping in the morning with Lily passed out next to me, playing with her on the hardwood floor in the living room while Delilah snored next to me, hours of feeling incredibly isolated and lonely, and hours of incredible joy and awe where I would just look at her and wonder how on earth Mike and I ever produced such a thing.

Now I look at her in her full-size bed, playing with dolls, talking up a storm, using the potty without me reminding her and articulating with frightening accuracy the things she knows or remembers, and I realize how a parent can wake up 18 years later and wonder where all the time went. It really does fly.