The birthday monsters are in town. (Apologies to Sandra Boynton.)

I got an email last week from Sophie’s aide:

[Sophie's teacher] and I wanted to let you know that we had a talk with Sophie today about her birthday. There have been several occasions recently where Sophie has told a student she was not invited to her party. We have used positive reinforcement in trying to resolve this issue but it has not worked. We feel that having a consequence may help this situation. We have told Sophie that if this happens again she will miss her lunch recess and we will be calling you. We think this will help. Let us know if you have any questions or concerns about this.

You need to know two things. First, Sophie’s birthday is not until May 21. Second, this is totally my fault.

I have created a monster. A birthday monster. Sophie is obsessed with her birthday, and I have no one to blame but myself. Birthdays are a huge deal in our house, and the discussion about Sophie’s pretty much starts the day after Christmas. (And the discussion of Christmas begins the day after her birthday — but that’s a different blog post.) Now, that said, I do not condone using a birthday party as an instrument of torture — of course I don’t. And Sophie and I had a Big Talk about that note when she got home from school the day it was sent.

“I’m not allowed to talk about my birthday at school,” she said a little sadly, hanging her head.

“Good,” I replied. “That was really mean. In fact, if you keep doing it, you may not have a birthday party at all!”

Sophie and I both know that will never happen. Neither of us can resist, and sometime soon, we’ll likely come up with theme and create a Pinterest board and start planning that party, as we’ve done in years past. Unlike Sophie (and to be fair, she doesn’t spend all her time uninviting party guests) I have always seen birthday parties as a chance to invite people into Sophie’s life — both those who are already good friends, and those who might like to be included. Play dates are (increasingly) awkward. But who doesn’t like a birthday party?

(Consider the name of this blog.)

This year I think we’ll hold off a few weeks on the Pinterest board and the color theme decision. But first, we have a very important birthday to celebrate today. It’s Sophie’s best friend Sarah’s birthday. She is 11. Sarah loves Neapolitan ice cream — you know, the chocolate, vanilla and strawberry striped kind — so when I saw a Neapolitan cake online, I had to screen grab it. There’s no time to make one from scratch, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Along with getting those layers to stack up and stay put. I’ll spend the morning fighting with three different boxes of cake mix, a lot of frosting and a pile of toothpicks, cursing and making a mess and having a blast.

I can’t wait. And I can’t complain about Sophie’s birthday obsession.

“It’s April! Then May!”

I rolled over in the bed and followed the script.

“And what happens in May, Sophie?”

“MY BIRFDAY!!!!!!!!!!!”  

I have created a monster.

(Apologies to Sandra Boynton. I love her “Birthday Monsters” board book.)

I blinked and stretched, trying to wake up.

“Vanilla on the inside and chocolate on the outside!”

OK, so we’ve got the cake plan.

To be fair, this is of my doing, as you know if you’ve read this blog much (um, the name might be a giveaway). True, we’ve already got a theme for Annabelle’s party (and her birthday’s in JULY) and yesterday I did book the music guy for Sophie’s “pretend” slumber party.

But really, even I admit that things are getting out of hand. Sometime in the middle of the night, last night, I swear I woke up to the musical stylings of  Sophie — singing the birthday song.

And Ms. X confirms that the birthday mania has spilled into the classroom. Yesterday Sophie told Anyssa to buy her Littlest Pet Shop characters for her birthday. And, Ms. X added, she’s been telling certain kids they can’t come to her party.

Ooooh. Not cool.

“Tell her the entire class will be invited!” I told Ms. X. Oh yes, she said, she has been. But, she reports, Sophie says she doesn’t want Aiden to come because Shawn and Aiden argue all the time.

We both had to admit that’s sort of sweet. But everyone in the class will be invited. And then some. (This could be a logistical nightmare, I realize. Our house is not that big.)

Hey, you only turn 6 once.

And now for some spring fashions. Speaking of Aiden from Sophie’s class, yesterday we were driving to school and the topic of Aiden’s new haircut came up. The kid showed up this week with a full-on mohawk — head shaved completely except for a dinosaur-esque ridge on top.

“What do you think of Aiden’s mohawk, Sophie?” I asked, trying not to let my own position show.

The answer came back loud and clear.

“I don’t like it.”

Hmmph. Very strong in her opinions. I’m finding that more and more when it’s time to get dressed in the morning. Annabelle will pretty much wear whatever you toss at her (unless it’s a special occasion or the fashion bug bites extra hard) but Sophie wants choices and more and more, she rejects the offerings.

The good news is that we have a near-unlimited supply of clothes, particularly for her since she’s smaller. I’m not sure where some of this stuff originated, like the Old Navy “Queen Bee” tee shirt. It’s absolultely adorable, but no way could I ever have put Annabelle in it. When Sophie pulls the Mean Girl thing, everyone thinks it’s cute; she has an excuse. (Although the way this birthday thing is going, I might have to hide the tee shirt.) Not so much with the other girls, which does make me wonder who handed this shirt down — and did their daughter wear it much?

Then there are shoes. Sophie’s getting pickier there, too. The other day we realized that Annabelle’s old brown Converse fit her. So the girls were shoe twins at school.

We were all delighted and I got a little nostalgic. Years ago, when Sophie first had orthotics and I was fighting the clunky white sneaker look, my dear friend Trish suggested Converse.

“Brilliant!” I yelled, right there in the middle of the Nordstrom shoe department, and we procured a pair in hot pink — only to have Dorcas the Physical Therapist reject them as unsteady.

The brown fit nicely. (Hopefully they’ll fit with the new orthotics that are now ready to be fitted — Dorcas convinced the guy to make the shoe inserts.)

So I’ve created a birthday monster and a fashion monster and, I realized this morning, a book monster.

I was getting Sophie out of the car seat when I noticed blood on her lip. Turns out it was coming from her thumb. She’d managed to give herself two paper cuts, just on the way to school, from a “Snow White” book she grabbed on her way out the door.

She got a little blood on her favorite Dan Zanes tee shirt before I could stop her from wiping her fingers on it, then we stopped at the nurse’s office and laid in a supply of Band Aids before it was time for drop off.

A long, monstery morning.