The title of this post bears little relation to the content, except that Fraser is now eight. I remember the TV show, though. Anyway. Fraser’s actual birthday was back on Feb 5. The same day and year as Facebook, as it happens. We had a little family do on the day, with lunch at the golf club and chocolate cake. We gave him another Diary of Wimpy Kid book and golf club membership, which he’s been wanting for years. Once cricket season is over, I expect he’ll be able to start having golf lessons.
The following weekend he had a sleep over at his cousin’s house which included an outing to Luna Park, the beach, and McDonald’s. He was bribed to go on all the rides he refused to go on last time he went and declared it the best birthday ever!
Fraser wanted a birthday party this year. Given his birthday is so close to the start of the school year, and the new school, we decided to put it off until yesterday. That ended up being a great decision—the sun was shining for once—and we had a mix of old and new friends. I’d organised a few games including a scavenger hunt with little plastic jungle animals and hidden lollipops, putt putt, dizzy stick races, and had set up a target and made up a few water bombs. Most of the time though, the ten-or-so boys just kept themselves amused with cricket and soccer games.
Once again, I slaved over making birthday cake and icing from scratch to create a Lego interpretation. It turned out so well. There was a yellow, red, and blue brick, where even the cake inside was in the appropriate colour. Why must I measure my mothering by the effort invested in the cake when it’s devoured or discarded within minutes, and the whole party goes for less time than it took me to ice it? Le sigh. I’m glad the party was a success, though.
That wasn’t it for the Festival of Fraser. He’s gone with Matt to the cricket today, watching the One Day International between Australia and India. All reports are that he’s having an excellent time.