The Birthday Bash at 38.

Boy, have birthdays changed. If you've read Koren Zailckas's book Smashed, then you'll get the idea of how I spent my birthdays from about age 18-28. Horrifying! Last Saturday night was much more like it.

Even a few years ago, I felt like having a night out with as many girls as possible, swigging IPAs and staying out late enough so that my husband had to put the kids (and himself) to bed was the perfectly manicured lawn of birthday parties. But I think I finally stumbled upon my grassiest birthday.

Last Saturday night, a friend and I had decided to finally try to get together and do a craft project we had been discussing for 18 months. I pondered a babysitter to watch the kids so we could have focused 'adult time', but decided to invite my mom too, who ensures that my crafts don't look like my 2-year-old did it, and also she was watching my niece and nephew that night so it's always fun to have them over to play with my kids. It was all set and then I ran into a neighbor, a single mom with one boy about the age of my oldest, and offered for them to join us.

Well, after we four women devoured two bottles of wine, it was project time. The kids were happily fueled up on pizza and sprite, wrecking havoc on our upstairs, which at the time I had completely blocked out from my conscious.

The two year old was the first to discover our project. We were doing decopauge, which involves glue, water, and basically equals a total nightmare for anyone ages 3 and under. Pretty soon, my toddler was in my lap, holding my paintbrush, glue in her hair and mine, my decopauge all wrinkled and ripped, and when it was finished, she held up the wine-corkboard we co-created and said, "It's so beautiful!" How could she NOT be right?! By now, all of the other kids were on top of each other around our kitchen table, grabbing everything from our craft drawers and inspiring one another's creativity, making everything from bunny rabbits to indian headbands.

So much for adult time.

Now I will never forget my 38th birthday, when I laughed harder than all the rest combined, and ended up with a 'beautiful' joint project that will forever mark a unique moment in the relationship between my sweet little toddler and me.

I also gained a new nickname. Before Caitlin decided to be my decoapuge assistant, I was already halfway though gluing on the wine corks before my friend even finished one side of her frame in decopauge. Of course, this was because she admitted to her obsessive-compulsiveness and how it had to be perfect. I commented that I don't have time for perfect, so when it comes to things like this, I alwasy just 'bust it out.' My hilarious neighbor yelled out, 'BIO, that's totally you'. My new nickname. It's perfect, BIO is my BIO, because with four kids, I have no time to write a BIO. That's my life, I'm just busting it out.

Everyone left by 10:30, which was already one and one-half hour past my bedtime, but my sweet mom had cleaned up my kitchen and my kids were dragging me to bed with them.

So what do you think? Is your birthday party grass greener with or without kids?

The only gifts I received were the laughter and joy of being with a couple of friends, my mom, and my husband and kids. That beats the gift of a hangover anyday.