I’m Only Friends with Mom’s that Serve Wine at Birthday Parties


Birthday parties are huge celebrations, especially for moms. I’m one of those obnoxious people that get overly excited when it’s someone’s birthday. I mean come on! Another year you’re alive wtf else is there to celebrate. And for a mom it’s a celebration of the day you gave birth to an actual human being. My birthday’s in June, and for the entire month of June tis’ a ‘celebration’ and before kids it was a month long drunken fest. Trust me, I’m not one for cheap thrills, but what’s a party without a little added fun.. Isn’t that what makes it a party. I mean how else are you going to cheer someone up with an outdoor birthday party on a chance of a rainy day without the encouraging quote ‘well if it rains at least we’ve got champagne.’ (Hallmark should totally hire me)

Like I said before, I’m birthday excessive. I love when it’s my birthday but I love even more when it’s my friends and families birthdays. They are getting Facebook photo collages, Instagram, Twitter, mass texts to the hobbits not on social media with long passionate, full of inside jokes and tons of emojis quotes. Yeah, I’ve lost a lot of social media friends in my day. So, if I’m so passionate about the basic friend or family member you can only imagine my over zealousness when it comes to my children’s day of birth. The exact date I gave birth to a human being; whom I grew, nurtured and sheltered inside my body for 9 months and then who was cut out of my abdomen (csection survivor✊🏼), who I then cared for and who became the center of my universe. Yeah. I take my kids birthdays pretty seriously. Two cakes always. Day of birth and day of party. I go all out for my kids birthday parties down to the theme/costumes/precise detailing. They are typically diy (84% Pinterest failures) and pretty affordable. I spend hours searching for the perfect invitation, cake designing, do all nighters making center pieces and props and search the internet vigorously for the right place to hold my fuckin banger. I put all this work into the parties and by the day of the party,I’m ready to just fucking party. Naturally, since I did everything my husband is the host of the party while I linger around the open bar. It’s a celebration of my babes but also of looking at all my awesome fuckin work. So, I celebrate… And boy do I celebrate hard.

However, I can’t say it is just birthdays that I celebrate. I find a reason to party for ANYTHING. Special events, holidays, religious holidays (again, I went to catholic school for 14 years I’m allowed) anniversaries, momentous life events, minor life events …you name it. It’s super dope that I can find a party in anything, yet it’s not always super dope to party for everything. Trust me, before even blogging about my shenanigans I have come to terms, moved past and grown… Yet they still make me cringe like the word slacks (in reference to dress pants).

AND HERE *circus ring master voice* the top 5 most embarrassing drunken fiascos during important event:

5) Rounding out the top most embarrassing and shameful moments is Christmas 2007- ‘Santa, all I want for Christmas is for my parents not to realize I’m drunk’. 17 years old and just pouring cup after cup of home made wine. Well apparently no one ever told me home made red wine is stronger than Donald trump’s toupee glue because before I knew I it was fucking hammered. Trying to pretend I wasn’t, hiding away from my entire family. My give away was my cousin running out saying ‘she’s acting funny’ but I really can’t blame him considering I fell off the bed and fireman rolled into a nap. That’s the last thing I remember. That, and lots and lots of yelling.

4) New Years Eve, 2 years back… My husband and I threw a little party. Well alpha Milf is not the alpha drinking game opponent and therefore lost miserably at shot roulette, I was passed out on the couch 40 minutes into the party, never made it too midnight.

3) This past New Years was my husband and I’s first New Years since having kids able to go out. I was fucking pumped !!! Yeah.. A little too pumped. We got there at 8pm by 10:05pm I was puking and then sleeping. Again, didn’t make it too midnight.

2) For my first child’s 1st birthday party I went all out. The theme was all about him. 12 cakes each representing a picture of him, life size photos placed into a lit up frame assortment, tropical fish centerpieces, laser projector photo show, sushi, (probably not the wisest choice now thinking back to the fish being centerpieces). Well after a year of breastfeeding and not drinking since before I was pregnant…I drank. I drank so much I not only convinced the owner of the venue to hire me for job position but so drunk that I got pregnant with my daughter that night.

1) By the time my daughters first birthday came around I was already a vet at throwing parties. Her 1st birthday party was Alice and Wonderland themed. For a month I searched every thrift store, antique shoppe, online and yard sales for the perfect teacups and plates then I pulled 4 all nighters creating topsy turvy teacup centerpieces. They came out fucking perfect. (Thank you Pinterest) Minus the 14 that shattered on the floor. I found the perfect outfits for my husband, son, daughter and I (me, being the queen of hearts of course). This party took everything out of me and everything came out perfect! … From what I hear. I put so much into this party and I can’t even remember it because of how much I ‘enjoyed’ it. Apparently I made a speech… I also welcomed everyone there…oh and I requested biggie and danced with all the kids. I know all of this because of pictures… Thank God I at least made it to the end of the party. And made it by the end of the party I mean, I was so graciously carried out like the royalty that I am and tucked away into my bed. Right after puking all over my dads new car.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s