The Sonia Show

Writer. Mocker. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.



Yeah, so, tomorrow is my birthday, but that’s not important.

Monday was mighty, mighty good kid Calvin’s birthday. Now that’s important! We had his party on Sunday. We invited his favorite people to the Germ Peek-A-Boo Factory for pizza, cupcakes, cookies and running around screaming in a padded play structure. A good time was had by the kids all.

In the past I have found hosting a kid’s birthday party to be a little stressful. And every year I say, “I’m not going to stress out, because that’s stupid.” And every year I stress out. I worry that people are not going to have a good time, which is ridiculous. No one goes to a little kid’s birthday party to not have a good time. No one that I would invite is going to sit there with their arms crossed, “This party is super shitty, Sonia, AS USUAL.” I mean, I do that at all the parties I host, because I am awful to myself, but no one else would do that to me.

Adults can handle a few hours of kid party. That’s what they signed up for by having kids. They get it. It’s the kids that matter, and they’ll play with a cardboard box and eat their boogers, so they don’t exactly have discriminating taste. The Peek-A-Boo Factory is like little kid heaven. All the kids LOVED it. All of the kids had to be dragged out against their will. You’re welcome, parent friends.

Anyway, as I said, I got stressed out anyway – mainly because I decided to bake cupcakes and cookies instead of just buying stuff like an intelligent person. Well, I don’t think I was really that worked up about baking. I think it had more to do the fact that it’s been a really crazy year, and my baby isn’t a baby anymore. BUT focusing on the baking was easier than dealing with my feelings. Ha ha. Take that, feelings.

I have really good vegan cupcake and cookie recipes, but I don’t have a good vegan frosting recipe. The day before Calvin’s party probably wasn’t a good time to test out a new recipe. The vegan frosting was a fail. It was runny, and David said it tasted kinda funny. I didn’t know how to thicken it up without making it even more sweet when it was already really sweet.

I was on the verge of tears that the frosting didn’t work out when mighty, mighty good man David said, “You’re being crazy.”

“Oh my god! You’re right. I am being crazy,” I replied.

“As long as you can see it, too, you’re fine,” he said.

Then I opened the cans of frosting I bought as a backup, and we had delicious cupcakes. The frosting wasn’t vegan. It contained some chemical that could be animal or vegetable based. Meh. I decided to leave a couple of cupcakes unfrosted, because Calvin likes them that way anyway, and that way I could have one, too. Plus, I think my cupcakes are great without frosting, if I don’t say so myself. #humblebrag


I did all the baking.


And he did all the eating.


Fantastic 4 cupcake with the little stickers we make every year for Calvin’s birthday.

After the party at The Factory, my family came over to our place, and we drank beer and grilled.

Side story: My parents arrived at our house before we did. My dad helped him to a Firestone Walker IPA. When I arrived I saw he was drinking it.

“Umm, Dad. Do you want a Corona? We bought Corona just for you,” I said.

“Yes. This beer is terrible.” He handed me the beer, and it was half empty. I don’t know whether to think it’s hilarious that my dad would drink half a beer that he thinks is terrible or if I should be concerned.


Calvin is “helping.”

So anyway, this was Calvin’s best birthday yet. He had an amazing time, and this year he actually understood that it was his birthday. He loved seeing all his favorite people. He enjoyed opening and playing with all his presents, and he enjoyed all the special attention you get when it’s your birthday. That’s a huge improvement over his previous birthdays, in which he would take David’s hand and try to leave the party. I am so proud of my boy. He is awesome.

As for my birthday, well, I’m 45. That’s right. Not 29 again. I’m not celebrating my 39th birthday for the sixth time, or the other things people say because they don’t want to admit how old they are. I’m 45. I earned to the right to be 45. Honestly, 44 wasn’t a great year for me. I’m looking forward to 45. This year is going to be rad. That’s right. I said RAD!

Good buddies Kate and Corso are coming over to Calvin sit, and David is going to take me out to dinner at Souley Vegan and beer at my happy place, The Good Hop. What else could a girl ask for?


These guys are the best gifts ever.


Author: The Sonia Show

I'm a writer/podcaster/mother/goober in San Francisco who likes to drink beer, shop, laugh and make other people laugh, watch old movies, feed my unhealthy obsession with pop culture, kick breast cancer's ass, go on adventures with my mighty, mighty good man David and my awesome autistic son, Calvin, wear orange and root for the San Francisco Giants, participate in general jackass-ery, talk about TV, eavesdrop on strangers' conversations, make nerdy “Star Wars” and “Simpsons” references, and post personal things about myself on the web for all to read, which makes me some sort of literary exhibitionist.

7 thoughts on “45

  1. Happy Birthday to you & Calvin. My son- also named Calvin – will be turning 1 next week and my birthday is shortly after too. I’ll be 35 and will be proud to say it too! Best to you

  2. Y’know, my 44 sucked ass too. I stand with Sonia! I stand for Rad! 45 is going to be Rad. Heck, it already is.

  3. What a lovely post!!
    I love your humble brag, those cakes look fantastic! It looks like everyone had a wonderful day.
    Congratulations on your birthday!

  4. Pingback: Having a ball in the ball pit | The Sonia Show

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