Sub-par Pinatas Suck Eggs

Store bought pinatas SUCK POOP!

In parties past I have painstakingly made my own pinatas from scratch.  Night after night I would add the flour glue combination and strips of yesterday's newspaper to a balloon shaped like the final product.  I was the master of this Frankenstein.

The pinatas I make are crafted with love and spunk.  They leave children baffled and awestruck.  Hitting one of my creations feels very much like batting a brick wall or a metal pole.  There is a "ding!" that sounds when struck that lets the player know they have met their pinata match.

 Usually, after all the children have had at least two opportunities to abuse my Frankenstein with forceful hits to the face I take over.  Frank meets his maker and I take him down sans blindfold.

This particular pictured pinata was purchased at a Hispanic grocery store for $18.  I thought it a good deal considering I had not had to put in hours and hours of glue laden manual service.

WRONG!  The store bought pinata was WEAK at best.  I was sorely disappointed.

It began to come undone with the first solid hits to its person.  It could not stand the pressure of a 4 year old child.  In addition, not all the children had a chance to hit the thing before it gave up the ghost.  Sinful!  Disappointing!

The candy just fell to the floor in a heap.  Terribly boring.  It is meant to fly in all directions so children might run from here to there and crash into one another in the acquisition of mini bags of M&Ms.

The children screamed and threw themselves atop the candy with their entire tiny bodies.  There was kicking and rolling around on the cold, wet ground.  There was thievery and tears. A terrible sight to behold, this brutal game that turns sweet children from the middle-class white suburbs into barbarians.

One sweet, gentle red-headed child stood weeping softly as she watch the other children shriek like banshees and greedily claw the ground for more candy.  She did not have it in her to join them.

"Come here sweetheart.  I found a few pieces of candy for you," I said.

She sniffed gratefully.

"These kids got really scary," she added in a small voice.


They will be all set to become Black Friday criminals as adults if they keep this up.

Maya is turning 7 this week.  We celebrated her birthday as she requested.  She was very particular about who she would and would not invite.  She wanted pink balloons and a teal pinata.

She insisted upon apple pie rather than birthday cake.

Apple pie, it is!

And there you have it folks.

7th Birthday party for youngest baby completed.  Phew!  I should be given an award.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND, MAYA!  I LOVE YOU, BABY.

MY SWEET WILD ANIMAL! :)

I Nevah Let Go.

If I could pick a friend to talk to and Love and protect and laugh with I would pick Bella.

If fact, I believe we chose each other before the world was.  Eternities ago Bella promised to be my baby in this life.

I promised to lead her and guide her and walk beside her.  I promised to help her find the Way.

Bella turned eleven years old today.  She loves owls, books, skinny jeans, clever graphic tees and writing on the walls of her bedroom. She loves hiding trash under her bed and hugging me tightly at every given opportunity.  Bella loves to Love.  She loves everyone.  She especially loves a boy who will remain nameless.  She is an artist in her soul.  She calms my troubled heart with her very presence.

When Bella was small I would say a nightly prayer asking God for her happiness and safety.  I would then tuck her in bed and kiss her soft brown cheek.

Bella would wrap her tiny arms around my neck and whisper,

"I nev-ah let go, Mama. I nev-ah let go."


I would laugh and tickle her until she let go my neck.

"Will the Tangle Faiwies come tonight?" Bella would ask without fail.

"Yes, my love.  The Tangle Fairies will be here as soon as you fall asleep."


"But why they come at MY house?"  


She knew the answer but asked anyway.

"Tangle Fairies just LOVE little girls with curly hair."


"Like me, Mama?"


"Yes. Exactly like you, baby.   When you are asleep Tangle Fairies sneak into your room and jump onto your pillow."


She always giggled here.

"Tangle Fairies love to slide and swoop and swing from all the curly curls on your head.  They play in your curls all night long.  They play until they are too tired to play anymore.  Then they go home and sleep all day."


"That's why my hai-ah is tangled in the moh-ning, wight?"


"Right."


"Good thing you buy swpay conditionah!"


"Yes.  Good thing for spray conditioner."

Sadly, Bella no longer believes in Tangle Fairies.  Puff the Mighty dragon has ceased his fearless roar.  But the real magic of my bella Bella still continues to delight me.

I held a party in honor of Bella's eleventh birthday.  I made a pinata with mine own hands.  This is precisely the pinata she requested.  Your wish is my command, sweet Bella Boo!

I kissed him farewell before he was demolished at the hands of thirteen rowdy little girls.

After Mr Pinata Head Man was obliterated I found myself alone with 13 screaming tweens.  We had a ball.  I fit right in.

One of them took the mangled pieces of Mr. Pinata and declared him her husband.

"Hey, Abrahms! My husband would like some ice cream.  He really enjoys ice cream," said Hannah (who calls me Abrahms, for which reason I know not.)

"You married the battered Pinata Man Face?" I ask.

"Yes.  We are in Love.  He is everything I could ever hope for in a husband.  We eloped."


"I hope the two of you will be very happy together," I said.

Below you can see Hannah and Rivers making out with his remains.

Sadly, Hannah divorced her husband before her parents came to pick her up. Her husband had not properly asked Hannah's father for her hand in marriage.  Divorce was the only logical option...

A wonderful time was had by all.  Bella was so happy to include her very best friends in the celebration of her life thus far.

Tonight I said a nightly prayer with my Bella.  I tucked her in bed and kissed her soft brown cheek.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, "I nev-ah let go," she said in the feigned baby voice she knows I adore.


"I love you soooo much, Bella Boo."


"I love you everything, Mama."


"I love you infinity and beyond."


"I love you a google forever and ever.  Thank you for the best birthday ever, Mama."


Happy sigh.  My work here is done.

Happy Birthday, Bella Rose.  I nevah let go.

I am not ready for my own planet... yet...

I am the pinata.  And the pinata is me.

This is my mantra tonight.  For tonight I have finished the pinata I have set out to complete. It is finished.

Bella asked me a week a ago to make her a paper mache wonder filled with candies and delightful surprises for her birthday party, which will be held on Friday of this week.  I was given a picture of the desired final product.  That is all.

I spent the week elbow deep in flour glue and strips of newspaper.  I completed the overall shape and saw that it was good.

I filled the empty vessel with delicious goodies and saw that it was good.

And on the sixth day (today) I completed the overall aesthetic of the pinata made by mine own hands. And saw that it was good.

Now I sit facing my creation.

He smiles at me.  It's an empty smile.  Confused.

"Why am I here?" asks the pinata.

"You are here to complete the measure of your creation.  The First Pinata fell that you might be.  Pinatas are that might have joy."


He stares blankly at me.

I smile intelligently down upon him.  I am filled with compassion.


A staggering thought enlightens my mind.

I speak to my creation,

"In regards to you I am All Powerful.  I could have given you three heads, a tail and fat thighs.  But I did not."


"Am I beautiful in the eyes of the world?"


"You are so much more than you appear to be on the outside.  It's what is inside that counts, little pinata."


"But I still don't understand why I am here. "


"You are here to bring smiles to the faces of children and adults alike.  You are here to serve others in Love and Happiness."


"How will I do that?"


I hesitate.

"In your lifetime you will face many challenges.  You will be tested and tried. Those you love most will beat you with a colorful stick.  Forgive them.  They know not what they do....


But if you endure it well you shall be exalted on high.  And in the end you will Be  exactly what you were intended to Be."


"If I am meant to have joy why do I feel so heavy?  What is this weight within?  Have I always been so  encumbered?"


"No, my little friend.  From the dust you came and to the dust you shall return..."


"I'm confused."


"All will be revealed in due time."


And so it is that Great and Dreadful Day is nigh at hand.

Happy Birthday, Bella.

Hit

My pinata was a HIT!

Get it?  Hit? 

I seriously slay me.  I can't get enough!

That thing held up like a CHAMP!  It withstood the buffetings of voilent children of all ages.

My bro-in-law, Bill, climbed up on the roof of my house.  He was Pinata Puppeteer.  I died laughing everytime he acutally swung to enormous Ice Cream Cone and hit the blind folded child in question.

There is something wickedly delicious about watching a another human being look ridiculous.  I don't care if that human is 3 or 103.  It's dang funny.

 




















Birthday parties are the spice of life!

While they are expensive, inconvenient and indicate impending liver spots, I LOVE to throw a solid B-Day party.  I love inviting too many people and offering too much food.  I love singing happy birthday and wondering what the birthday girl's silent wish might be.  I love watching the opening of gifts.  I love eating leftover birthday cake with my fingers whilst my family sleeps.

I especially love the gifts though.  Gifts is my major love language (...that and Words of Affirmation, but we'll discuss that at another juncture in time...).  When someone gives me a thoughtful gift I positively GLOW.  It means they thought about ME and actually DID something about it.  I get all happy and gooey inside. 

I was SUPER excited to see what gifts Maya got today!  New toys make the world go 'round!

Someone gave her the new Tangled Barbie Doll.  I lit up like a roman candle!

"Welcome to the family Tangled Rapunzel Barbie !" I shouted with fervor.  "I saw your movie in the theatre.  I just want you to know I am SUCH a huge FAN!  I just need to apologize in advance for the fact you will be thrown in the playroom with all the other No Name Barbies... They're not used to celebrities, like you..."

Maya also recieved a Build-a-Bear kit.

I was beside myself!

"Maya!  WHAT A COOL GIFT!!! YOU GET TO BUILD YOUR OWN BEAR!!! I LOVE THOSE!!!"

I really do love those...

I exclaimed over every gift to the point of exhaustion.  I become emotionally spent when I get too excited. 

I know a party was good when I completely crash immediatly after the departure of the last guest.   I partied HARD, yo!  I was TOTALLY WASTED on hard candy.  I'm gonna have a SERIOUS hangover en la manana.  (I'm a major light weight.)

I was POSITIVELY DRUNK on the glee of my baby girl.    

Like I said, Maya's party was a hit!

I'm out, ya'll!

Death of a Pinata

You can't just go to the store and buy an Ice Cream Cone Pinata.  Ya gotta put your shoulder to the wheel, my friends.  Ya gotta WORK for that Ice Cream Cone Pinata. 

"I want an Ice Cream Cone Pinata for my birthday party," said Maya.  "I want it to have two scoops.  Blueberry Ice Cream and Strawberrry Ice Cream."

I happen to think blueberry ice cream would be pretty nasty, but whatever.  I just work here.

I began this slave labor of Love with two bombas and flour-water glue on Sunday night.

My mother taught me fine art of pinata crafting when I was knee high to a grasshopper.  I decided to pass my priceless knowledge down to my own rugrats. 

I have been told some mothers do not allow children to sit on the dinner table and kitchen counters.  In my house it is encouraged as long as they promise not to pass gas... too much...

My philosophy is this:

You can lead a child to a pinata, but you can't make him drink.

Also:

You can look a gift pinata in the mouth only if it is shaped like a disney princess or super hero or Spongebob.

Similarly:

If you GIVE a child a fish pinata he will find joy in it's destruction.  If you teach him how to make a pinata shaped like a fish, he will create pinatas his whole life long and suffer greatly at the brutality said pinata will surely encounter.  

 Oooo...check out my lovely flower!  I used to make tons of these when I was a kid on Tucson's South Side.  They often served as inexpensive wedding decorations.  Pretty cool, eh?

My kids helped me with the pinata for exactly 5.2 seconds before they became bored and started taping streamers to the ceiling fan and microwave. 

I flew solo for 6 hours today.  6 HOURS! 

TAAA DAAAA!

Say your prayers, Pinata.  You die at 5pm sharp.

I'm sooo glad I put a great deal of effort into a project that will be battered and abused and destroyed by children who are EAGERLY awaiting their turn to inflict undue damage.  This violence will take place before my very eyes. 

It's a SICK tradition.

I love it!

Happy Birthday, Maya Moo!  I love you, baby girl.

Chee-chees and Pinatas

Jessica squeezed my left breast and said, "Evita wants to know what kind of milk you're packin' in those chee-chees of yours.  They look delicious!"

"I dispense high quality Muscle Milk," I said.  "Great source of protein."

I breathed a sigh of relief as we laughed.

Then my Tia Letty came and pulled my shirt down leaving little to the imagination.

"Crystal has nice, sexy chee-chees, just like me!"  she said.  Then she did a little Mexi-dance to prove her point.

 Letty is one of the sexiest women I have ever met and one of my top 8 favorite people.  She is passionate and loud and crazy and men LOVE her.  She tells the filthiest jokes you have ever heard and will KILL for the people she loves. (She once tried to run over her daughter's boyfriend for breaking her heart...  The boyfriend married Jessica... Smart move.)  Now Letty is grandmother to one year old, Evita.

Letty lived with me in Germany when I was little and has always looked out for me.  I love her so much it hurts!

THIS is what I have been needing!  THIS is what I have been missing! 

I NEEDED my cousin to grab my boob and my aunt to expose me in public. I NEEDED my male cousins and uncles to roll their eyes at these NORMAL behaviors.  These experiences remind me of the importance of FAMILY.  My family.

When I was 16 and lil cousin Jessica was 3, I would sleep at her house.  My aunt Letty was delighted I would take bubble baths with the door open so Jessica could wander in and out of the bathtub if she chose and fill it with toys.  Now Jess feels comfortable handling me and I handle her right back.  THIS is what FAMILY is all about!
 
There is no P.C. to worry my pretty lil head about!  I can exhale and encourage my children to find pleasure in the violent sport of Pinata Destruction.

"Have you ever noticed how it's always the little white kids on America's Funniest Home Video that get hurt when they have pinata at their parties?  They don't know all the little rules...  The little white kids are always getting hit with sticks..."  said my other aunt, Veronica.

"So TRUE!"  I replied.

You see?  No P.C. worries!  She said "little white kid" and no one convulsed with indignation.  Imagine THAT!

I have seen little white kids break down in tears at the sight of Life-Size-Cinderella-Pinata getting her face smashed to bits by a festively decorated baseball bat. 

I have also seen little (inexperienced) white Daddy's get their balls smashed by rampant pinata sticks.  Entertainment for the WHOLE family to enjoy!

My own personal little white kids know to RESPECT The Game.  There is a certain reverence involved in smashing The Little Mermaid to smithereens.  They know to hold the stick with both hands, back away from a blind folded player, and dive head first into the dirt at the first sign of candy.

I was pleased to note The Little Mermaid pinata was Latina, as she had voluptuous hips and ample bosoms.  She danced through the air and shook her caderas in the way only Latina women can.  I was pleased my son got to see her performance before she exploded into a thousand pieces at the hand of Cuzzy Big Rok.

I felt blissfully FREE today.  I said whatever the hell I wanted and no one gasped.  No one said I was inappropriate, crass or self-absorbed.  I can breathe again!

Happy Birthday, Evita!