I'm a "planner". I make lists and schedules and like to have my days and weeks planned out so I know what to expect in advance. Don't get me wrong, I love a spontaneous adventure or a surprise here and there, but mostly I decide my daily life ahead of time. I thrive on it, and I'm known for it.

My oldest child, Jake, has inherited this lovely attribute from me, and he plans way in advance too. From January on he plans his next Christmas wish list. From the beginning of the school year he plans for the next summer. From the early morning he plans his pajamas for that night. I love him for this. We, together and/or separately, get labeled every name in the book from "over anxious" to "extra excited" to "paranoid". But that's okay with me. The people who aren't "planners", those are the ones who will worry if their underwear is clean during an emergency.

Jake also plans his birthday parties a year in advance. I'm absolutely NOT joking about this. When he turned two he celebrated with a Maisy party and the next day began talking about how his next party would be a Buzz Lightyear celebration. I changed his third birthday for him at the last minute to Animal Planet, but the day after his party he decided that Spiderman would be the theme for when he turned four. And on his fourth birthday, while the Spiderman decorations were still freshly hung, he planned his fifth party: a sports-themed extravaganza.

I loaded the kids in the car this morning and we headed off to the party store in search of decorations. The party is four weeks away, and to get the invitations out right on schedule, we needed to buy them ASAP! Taking two boys to a party store was a lot more tempting for them than I originally thought. All of my son's plans slowly began to drain from his little excited eyes when he surveyed the spectacle around him. Before I knew it we had Transformers, and Baseball, and Football, and Star Wars and Backyardigans themed supplies piling high inside our shopping cart.

"Just a minute here!" I declared. "We have too much! You need to decide on what theme you like best and we'll go from there." His little face slowly turned from excitement to bewilderment and he looked at me like, "How exactly do you expect me to do this?" So I carefully reminded him that he originally planned on Sports for the theme, and I further explained that we didn't really need to get the Tyrone and Uniqua Backyardigans dolls or the American Idol trophy to accomplish this. He held up a Star Wars decorative ribbon and with the biggest puppy dog eyes I've ever seen asked, "Please don't make me put back the ribbon!" I then had to be the "tough" Mom that I dread (my kids usually see right through me) and told him that he could buy the Star Wars ribbon if he was going to choose that as his theme. He reluctantly put it back.

Then he saw a plastic archeologist's hat (I know, I gagged too) and begged once more for me to buy it. "That hat is part of the dinosaur party. Is that what you want?" I asked him, knowing full well that to him dinosaurs ranked in the same category as My Little Pony. Another hour (no exaggeration), and fifty dollars later the back of our car was filled with Sports-themed stuff. And in place of the beloved Star Wars ribbon was a red, white and blue ribbon with a gold medal that said #1 in the center.

When we arrived home I think he was still a little unsure of his decisions, but he layed it all out on the counter for Daddy to see. And as soon as Daddy made an inappropriate "poop" comment in reference to the football pinata, I knew Jake was hooked. He was ready to pass out the invitations today!