I particularly enjoyed miss leigh�s link this morning (or was it from last night?), as I feel remarkably like someone has eaten my brain. AJ�s party was great fun, but truly exhausting. And alas, most of my pictures are terrible as trying to get pictures of an over-excited newly three-year-old hopped up on all the sugar he could get his hands on was rather like trying to herd the proverbial cats. But I believe a good time was had by all. I also believe, if this morning�s diaper change was any indication, that a very great deal of blue icing was consumed by some. I had to check to make sure someone hadn�t replaced my boy with a smurf. Nothing like looking at a royal blue ass at 5 a.m., even a baby ass.

Yes, AJ popped out of bed at 5 a.m. this morning ready to play with his new toys. He was particularly interested in his new Sit �n Spin. Unlike the Sit �n Spin of my youth, this one plays music in a dizzying eclectic array of genres. The William Tell Overture (think Lone Ranger theme song) is swiftly followed by an all-instrumental version of C&C Music Factory�s �Gonna Make You Sweat� and then an �old timey� American fiddle tune. I am baffled by the selections, but it�s pretty entertaining, especially since AJ will shout �Whee!� while spinning himself around really fast and then will get up and dance to the music, his head swimming with vertigo, until he falls down.

This gift was a present from AJ�s friend Z, the only other preschooler at the party. Z does not like it when everybody sings at the same time, but she had been waiting and waiting to sing �Happy Birthday� to AJ, so we got to hear Z solo, lisping through �Happy Birthday� in front of the crowd. It was definitely the highlight of the evening.

AJ�s other most favorite gift was from his bachelor uncle who takes it on himself to provide for AJ�s every sporting need. This birthday brought a set of two miniature goals, a pint-sized soccer ball, hockey sticks and a ball (for outside) and puck (for inside). While AJ and Z were busy with the Sit �n Spin, my husband and his brother turned the family room into a hockey rink, sending balloons flying with every thwack of the stick.

There is more to tell but, alas, not the time to tell it. Instead, I leave you with a few of my terrifying finds en route to a link for Smurfs. Apparently they aren't as wholesome as once portrayed:

Translate web pages into smurf!

What's your smurf name?

Papa smurf can lick your butt! (Not work safe)

Find your inner smurf!

Which smurf are you?

Smurf porn (Not work safe)

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