Secret Agent Birthday Party

Joe-Henry turns NINE tomorrow, and because we just had a huge trip, we decided to keep his birthday costs down by doing it at home. I was nervous about it because last year we went to the super cool bowling alley arcade, and he kept saying initially he thought it might be - what was the word he used? Oh yes - STUPID. But I planned and plotted and schemed and it turned out to be a truly memorable, hugely fun, and most important - COOL party. I had to come up with something that both boys and girls would like, and we had kids ranging in age from 4 to 6th grade, so I wanted everyone to feel good about being here.

We decided on a "Secret Agent" Theme. The invitations went out inviting friends to help with a secret mission. And instead of giving out goody bags at the end, we gave them at the beginning of the party because they had things they might need to complete the mission - black sunglasses, little magnifying glasses, notebooks and pencils, compasses and whistles and tiny flashlights. I just used plain brown lunch bags and found these cool little clipboard notes at The Dollar Tree. All the goody bag stuff I got at either Oriental Trading Company, Dollar Tree or Office Max.



The kids were given a password (NINE), and then taken into Joe-Henry's room where they could choose a disguise if they wanted one. They all loved dressing up in all kinds of stuff - a witches hat, a football shirt, an apron, etc. I had downloaded a bunch of "spy" music: Theme from James Bond, Get Smart, Mission Impossible, etc. which played throughout the party. Then I took them all into the living room, where they were told they were on a mission to help with a birthday mystery. We would be doing several "training exercises" before we could look for clues. The first exercise was to help their powers of deduction. They were all given a secret identity taped to their backs and had to figure out who they were by asking a partner questions.



Then we did a memory boosting training exercise. They took out their notebooks and pens, and looked at fifteen items on a tray for 30 seconds. They then had to write down as many as they could remember in two minutes or less.

The next exercise was "pin the sunglasses on the secret agent". I had drawn an outline of Joe-Henry on a big piece of paper and cut out black paper sunglasses. They all had to put on a blindfold and who ever got closest won. Later on they could write messages to Joe-Henry on the outline.



Then we went to the backyard to do a disguise relay. The kids were divided into two teams and each team was given a backpack with a disguise (a big t-shirt, a hat, gloves, glasses, and a lei), a nerf gun and darts. Each person had to put on the disguise, run to the line and shoot a dart at the targets, run back, repack the bag for the next person, who would do the same thing, the first team done wins.



Then my FABULOUS niece Heather, who had been helping the WHOLE TIME (and truly, the list for all the things I owe her for is so long I don't know how I'll ever pay her back) donned her black trench coat and sunglasses and delivered a secret message for Agent McQuary. It was the first clue in a scavenger hunt to find all the goodies for a birthday party. The last clue was next door at the neighbors, and it was my brother's cellphone number. They had to call and tell Bugsy to "deliver the package". He had parked across the street with two dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. We have the best family EVER.




After they were all jacked up on donuts, we played one last game called "Diffuse the bomb". Two people with one badminton racket each had to take a black balloon to the next two people who had to carry the balloon between them without using their hands or arms to the last person who was in charge of the diffusing box (a box with toothpicks sticking up inside it). When they closed the box the balloon popped. We went through lots of balloons and they got lots of that sugar out of their systems on that game!



They then had just under a half hour to just play, and it was so much fun to hear them laughing and screaming. It was even more fun to hear how quiet the house got when all the parents showed up to take them home! But it was such a blast and for some of the kids I think it was the first time they went to a party without their parents. Judging by the smiles and how disappointed they were when their parents came, I think it was a success.



After it was all over, we let JH open a present from his Aunt, because we knew it was a video game he desperately wanted. And then Charley and I took a big, drooooooly nap.

Happy Birthday, Joe-Henry. You're my favorite secret agent ever.

HeadSong Friday: The Secret O' Life

I thought about "Angel From Montgomery" today, the first line of which is "I am an old woman", but thought this really suited my mood much better.

As we say around our dinner table: "Thank you for the blessings"

Happy Birthday, Herman

My Dad, Herman Cyrus Christianson would have been 91 today.

Everyone called him "Cy". There were a select few though, who could get away with "Herman". I was nervy enough to try, and lucky enough to get away with it.

Happy Birthday, Dad. I miss you.

When You Wish Upon A Star

Say what you will about The Wonderful World of Disney: It's manipulative, it's ferociously capitalistic, it's driven to brand and license every adorable character within an inch of it's life. Yes, yes, it's all true. But I'll tell you what, it really is the happiest place on earth if you have kids. Of course you pay for it through the nose (and if you're me, in more ways than one - I came down with a nasty cold our last day there), and you'll never feel your feet again from all the walking and standing in line, and you'll crave quiet like an drunk craves the demon drink, and it's guaranteed that at least one person will meltdown every day, although it will not always be a child.

But where else can you get hugged by Winnie-The-Pooh,



get a license to drive your dad around the bend at age seven







and fly a rocket all by yourself?



Where else can you become a Jedi in Training,



defeating Darth Vader AND assist Buzz Lightyear in saving the Universe from the Evil Zorg? All in the same hour? Where else can you help a pirate named "Honest John" find his treasure?



And where else can you stand in line for twenty minutes for a one minute ride on a roller coaster with Grandpa and have it be the bellylaugh of a lifetime?

Once, when Joe-Henry was about four, we hit Disneyland for some random occasion. We lived within an hour's drive then, so we had the California pass, and all we did was visit with Winnie-the-Pooh. We'd finish up standing in line, he'd hug Pooh, and we'd just head on back to the back of the line for another round. On this particular visit, we had waited in line to see Pooh, and he had to go on a lengthy break. He whispered to his "handler" to have us come back during one half hour time slot, so we came back to see Pooh at our appointed time. As we were arriving, he was too, and he saw Joe-Henry, and got down on one knee and opened his arms. Joe-Henry ran to him, and Pooh hugged him tight, and then slipped a note into his hand. He couldn't read yet, but I read the note to him. It was a handwritten note in Pooh's characteristic script, and it said "Joe-Henry - Pooh luvs you like Hunny." I burst into tears, and Joe-Henry has kept the note in a special place ever since.

He knows now that Pooh is just a person in a costume (I'll tell you that sad tale some other day - but for now I've promised to not make certain people cry), but I think that Disneyland, and all that it entails -



family, friends, and a few days of YES, LET'S DO! - really, truly do carry more than a smidgen of magic.

If October 4th Is Your Birthday

You survived the wretched normality of a suburban childhood, and it gave you a penchant for creativity. You spend your early adult years unaware of your own hotness, and while you think you are only the "friend", it is really your own cluelessness that saves you from the clutches of many ill-fitting matches. You spend your early thirties running away from a tenacious redhead, but this just makes you more attractive, and you will wind up married.

You find balance later in life, but not on a bicycle.

Your forties finds you struggling with the satisfaction of domesticity and the pull to create, but it is in your role as a parent that you shine. Your shimmering mind and loving heart are just two of the tools in your parenting tool kit that make this job so perfect for you. You are admired and adored by your family, and your perserverence and attention to the needs of others are an inspiration to the people in your life.

You are adept with words, and your talent in this area needs to be given more attention as you move into mid-life. Your family is supportive of this endeavor, and will do what is necessary to help you achieve your goals.

You are incredibly sensual and sexual and there is little (if anything) that turns you off. You attract others like moth to a flame with your wit and self-deprecating sense of humor, and your sexy, sexy legs which you choose to show off in middle years by wearing a kilt. This is a very good choice for you - few people can pull it off like you can.

In fact, your "animal magnetism" is so strong that you do share an unspoken love with another species - mornings are especially important, and you must do your best not to let this "love" know of your commitment to your family, as he is jealous, and furry, and will hiss when unhappy.

Oh, and if October 4th is your birthday, you might just be my husband. And that would make me the luckiest woman alive.

Happy Birthday, my sweet love. You are the light of my life.

With apologies to Ellin Dodge.

If September 4th is your birthday....

You are a stickler for managing and organizing your finanacial affairs but never get the hang of learning from your experiences. You cannot manage the restlessness you feel as a youngster and leave your community to break with traditions. Basically you are down to earth and determined to be successful. It is the uncertainty and surprises of childhood that tax your methodical mind. Mid-life offers you the chance to meet people and experiences that recognize just how dependable you really are. As a child, you must be wiser than your years.

From your late twenties to your early fifties, you are productive and constructive. You are a habitual worker and practic your skills with a determination to see financial results. You want material success and to live comfortably. Real estate, farming, construction businesses, physical fitness programs and military service are stepping-stones for your technical applications. Manufacturing offers an opportunity for you to see a tangible result and a profit.

It is necessary for you to buld consistently for the future and to put your physical energy to the test. Unused energy results in destructive activities. You can be very obedient or refuse to follow any pattern.

Love and work do not meld during your early years. It's one or the other. When you reach late years, you handle your self-imposed discipines without imposing them on your family or lovers. You are devoted, trustworthy and sincere. However, your youthful follies may be a tough act to follow. You grow far from your place of birth and find life after age fifty rewarding.

From "You Are Your Birthday" by Ellin Dodge

Happy Birthday to Kimberly! If this isn't insightful, I hope it's at the least amusing.

Happy Birthday, Ms. Hoo!

If you are one of those lucky enough to call the fabulous Suttonhoo a friend, then you are lucky beyond measure. If you only know of her from her amazing blog Detritus, then let me tell you a few things about her that you might not know...

She works like a demon. She's got the goods, and then some when it comes to talent, but she's so humble you'd never guess it. She's got her arms open to life, and if you look up the word "lovely" in the dictionary, you'll see her picture. She would never write anything mean about anyone on tv. But if YOU did, and say, you got busted? She would say something to make you feel better. And then she'd laugh at you a lot. Which is why you love her.

She's one of those gorgeous smart girls. If you read her blog, you know she's tall, too, so she could kick yer ass if she needed to, but she wouldn't ever need to, because she would disarm you with her charming wit immediately, and you would never even feel foolish for having wanted to tussle with the likes of her. Just lucky that you didn't.

She's the kind of friend who shows up. When we both lived in Seattle, she helped us move (twice, in one year), and when we moved to LA and I had been there only days, I received a call to tell me my father lay dying in a nursing home three states away. She met me during a layover at the Seattle Airport with bagels and a hand to hold. She's just so kind.

She loves a great cup of coffee, The New York Times, and laughing at mortifying stories. She won't shy away from a good, cleansing cry, either. And no matter how much time or distance stands between you, she will remember your stories. Sometimes better than you do. Because she likes stories and she loves you.

D., I wish you a full cup of dark, rich, hot coffee and something chocolate to go with it.
To your next year - may it be full of adventure (the good kind), and laughs (the best kind), and dear friends (the only kind).
Love you to bits and pieces.
Mrs. McQ

From "You Are Your Birthday" by Ellin Dodge

If August 24th is your birthday:

You are sensitive, detail conscious and want all the comforts of home. In youth your pettiness, jealous outbursts and overly humble manner created disharmony in your community. When you become cooperative and maintain friendships, your youthful relationships are helpful in mid-life. Love and a peaceful atmosphere at home or business are essential to your emotional and practical well-being. A helpmate, teacher or assertive friend is inspirational and helps you to make decisions. You intend to improve your material standards, have your own home and are willing to work in youth.

In your twenties you relate best to males due to your sensitivity to your mother as a tot. You are opinionated and play devil's advocate to get a rise out of everyone. It is difficult for you to be decisive or patient until you get in touch with your true feelings. As a child, your temper tantrums or violent dislikes were ignored. If you were encouraged to share your personal opinions, develop your intellectual strengths and build self-confidence, you would not make mountains out of your personal molehills or be too self-concerned.

You are too intent upon surviving before the war begins. In mid-life you assume responsibilities and begin to recognize your exceptional talents. You are a late bloomer and begin to receive recognition after age forty.

You have lived unconventionally and sensually and learned about life as you encountered changes and surprise. The people and experiences that you met in youth are stepping-stones to your concentration in later years. You have material protection.

The Most Wonderful Husband on the Planet...

... got me a Nikon D40 SLR kit for my birthday. So I took a picture of him. Isn't he handsome?



I took lots of pictures of this cute kid at the park







and at the farmer's market parking lot...


until he got a bit bored with all my picture taking....



I finally let someone else have the camera, but just for a second.


I promise I'll TRY not to bore you with my pictures of everything that moves and or doesn't move within a mile radius of whereever my butt happens to be planted.

Happy Birthday, Herman

My dad was a beautiful whistler. It's a lost art, really, but one that he had mastered. He didn't boast about it - he just did it, and it got him through some rough times. Whether he was born with the talent, I can't say, but if he wasn't, he must have practiced a great deal, because it was beautiful. Melodic and lilting and lovely. He tried to teach me, and I'm okay, but I'm not nearly the songbird that he was. Although I did take up the flute in Junior High. I did what I could. And he was proud of everything I did, as he was of all of his kids. I'm not sure if I can fathom how proud he was of me - as a kid, and even as an adult, I never felt that it was deserved, but from a mother's perspective, I get it now. You always just love your kids. They do what they do, and some days (months, years) they make mistakes, but you still can't get over how amazing they are. You can't believe that this person with all this light in them has your DNA. Even if they can't whistle.

Today is my Dad's birthday. He would have been 91 today. I miss him so much. He was 81 when he died in 1997. Almost two years after the big party we gave him for his 80th birthday. He had the time of his life at that party, and so did we. All four of his kids planned it, and old friends came and called. A group of men who served with my dad in England during WWII called him on a cell phone we had rented for the occasion. It was a time when cell phones were only used by doctors and high powered suits, just minutes before they became the ubiquitous annoyance/neccesity they've become today. He wept during the phone call, tears of joy, as they all listened on conference call as I read a letter they wrote to him. It was a perfect letter, full of memories and raucous, manly humor, and it was the highlight of the party for him.

My Dad served proudly in the Army Air Corps during the Second World War, and it was a time that shaped his life, along with growing up during the Great Depression. He talked about his time in the service often as I was growing up, and even more as he got older. It gave him so much - adventure, travel, and lifelong friends. When he was in the thickest throes of dementia, when he was taken out of the here and now, he would live there, in that time, and could remember those details vividly. In the last year of his life though, when he was in a nursing home after a hip operation, he ventured back further - high school, dances at "Nat Park" in Spokane, early childhood in Superior, Wisconsin. I remember one particularly difficult visit was turned around completely by a phone call from an old high school friend. This was a lovely man that my dad hadn't seen in years, but talked about often. My sister and I had been with him most of the day, and he was going in and out of confusion, having a hard time remembering where he was and why he was there. When the phone rang, I spoke with his friend briefly, letting him know as gently as I could that Dad probably wouldn't remember him, but as soon as Dad got on the phone, he was there. In the moment, laughing at old memories. He was good at faking it if he didn't remember something, but this was different. He had total recall of the old days, but was also completely in the present as well. It was a miracle to witness, and heartbreaking to see it fade as soon as he hung up the phone.

He was a strict parent, from what I hear from my older siblings. But with me, he had learned to loosen up. Out of necessity and exhaustion, I think. My mom died when I was eight, and my dad was sort of flummoxed by the whole idea of raising a girl. In addition to this, the year after my mom died, my dad lost his job as a salesman that he'd held since the 40's. He was a meat salesman, and it was during the 70's, the Army Corps of Engineers put Bristol Packing Plant, which sat on the banks of the Snake River, under water. Dad was in a tough, stressful spot, and he handled it by drinking. It got pretty bad for a while there, but in those days, it's what you did, and to be honest, were I in his shoes, I'd probably need a good stiff one myself. He eventually slowed the drinking, and quit smoking altogether when he hit 70, doctors orders, but not before doing some damage. After mom died, he had a girlfriend, Dorothy, and she kept him out of trouble. I don't know why they never married - they should have. They loved each other enough, and were good for each other too. He was old fashioned, and a truly stubbon Norwegian, but I wish still that he had been smarter about this. But for whatever reason, they didn't, yet he was still fortunate enough to call her his girlfriend until the end.

He was an amazing example and role model, and my greatest friend and supporter, and an incurable tease. He could get my goat like no one else, until my son was born and found where all those buttons were. My little boy often teases me just like my Dad used to, and has other habits that his Grandpa Cy had, too.

My son is perfecting his whistle - he whistles everywhere, getting better and better. He's a little songbird in so many ways, and his Grandpa would be mighty proud.

Happy Birthday, Herman.

I miss you and I love you. So much.

Madly, Skidaddly, Badly.