A post of adoration and humility

This is another post dedicated to the memorialization of Erin Allbritton, only this one may not make all of your cry.

Jake turns nine on May 8. Traditional birthday parties for the Allbritton boys is a party at home. Jake said he knew his mama wasn't going to feel like doing a big birthday party, he wanted to have his party at Jump 'n Jive, one of those bouncy house places. It was handy that he felt this way because well....because. While Erin's family was keeping vigil at the Carpenter House in those final days, I was trying to sensitively pick a date and time for his party. He had a choice between May 8 at 12:30 pm, which I explained may reduce his numbers since kids play baseball on Saturdays, and May 16 at 3 pm. He wanted more people, so he picked the latter date. He picked out his invitations and we ordered them and reserved a party room at Jump 'n Jive for May 16 at 3:30 pm. (Did you catch that?)

A word here about birthday parties, Erin Allbritton-style. They were extravaganzas. Invitations were scrapbooked masterpieces. One year Jake's invitation was a castle and the drawbridge folded down to reveal the party details. Tables - separate ones for food, cake, presents and eating - were vibrantly clothed. There were streamers and balloons and hats and goodie bags. A photograph of the birthday honoree was enclosed with all thank-you notes. Cakes were tiered-presentations, except the year of the castle, when the cake was this elaborately decorated shield. There has always been a bouncy-house, except one year I recall there was a sprinkler/water slide/wading pool funhouse. I believe Landen's birthday party in February had 40-something attendees. All this to say that birthday parties up until this point have been expertly crafted down to the most minute detail.

Jake's invitation, that I paid to have someone design and print because I am zero percent the creative mind and patient person of Erin, is adorable. He picked it out. He chose the picture. He jumped and clapped when he saw the finished product.

Please recall a previous paragraph that stated the time of the boy's birthday party. Mm-hmm. 3:30 pm. Son of a bitch. I have 45 invitations that say 3:00 pm on them. I take one to my friend Cami across the hall and ask her what in the shit am I going to do with 45 invitations with the wrong damn time on them that did not cost 50 cents apiece and we're t-minus 12 days until the party. And no, Jump 'n Jive can't just move my party to 3 pm. After she stopped laughing, she told me to write it in. Or put a little note.

I matched the font as closely as I could and printed out tiny little labels to change the time on the invitations. I even printed them in blue, so they would stand out. Not bad?

I sent up a little prayer to our angel Erin, and asked her to throw this girl a little help removing her head from her ass before she embarasses us all and brings shame to our name. I mean, shit! Keeping them clean and fed and loved and learned and healthy and happy and well-adjusted is no sweat. This is a birthday party. This is serious business.

I think we're off to a fabulous start. At least, if I may not be one of those mother-types who has their shit together enough to order invitations with the same date and time for which they have reserved and paid a deposit on a facility, I do have the ability to fix things. I am hoping that Mawmaw and NannyandCarly are going to jump in on the decorating and execution of a theme, or else we could all be attending a party like this:

.....