You da man

Tonight we hosted a pajama party for eight (yes, eight) little girls. Aubrey got this notion in her head around Christmas and it has taken this long to come to fruition. There was dinner, cookie decorating, a movie, duck duck goose, and plenty of improvised fun. It was great, in a crazy, chaotic, shrieking little girl kind of way.

Some friends of mine said they thought I was a good mom as they picked up their girls. You know, because we had a for-the-heck-of-it party and still looked kind of sane at the end of it. But guys, here is the truth of it. I'm not always a good mom and when I am there is a secret behind the goodness. Greg.

I would NEVER have done this party if Greg hadn't been here. No way, no how. He watched the kids while I made dinner. He held a baby while I piled up plates. He pierced juice boxes, spread frosting, and laughed at a HILARIOUS batch of knock knock jokes. When a couple girls were overwhelmed (rightly so) one of us stayed up and got coloring for them while the other supervised the crazy crew. One of us swept while the other popped popcorn. You get the idea. This was not a one man job and it was fun for everyone, including us, because I had Greg doing the whole thing with me. When I told him this at the end of the night, as he was vacuuming up popcorn, he said simply, "We're a team."

So, the cat is out of the bag. If I ever dare to be a good mom it is only because Greg is an exceptional dad. Now you know.