I don’t know about any of you, but we’ve been slammed with birthday parties over here. Our own kids AND other friends. For a while there, we even had trouble booking my own son’s birthday party, as it is double booked behind a ex-student’s (who has done this for the past 3 years with us, even though her son’s birthday is in JUNE…but I digress…) party on the same day, one hour earlier on the complete opposite side of town. And we’re not the only family to have fallen to the rescheduling nightmare. In the thick of things, emails were flying back and forth requesting parents to change the time of another student’s party so their kids could make it after their soccer games and such. Y’all, I have had it with the birthday party drama. After all this went down, I informed Mr. B that this would probably be the last year we have a big party for him. After the Big 6th, we’ll resort to doing something small like taking friends to a movie or lunch, or having a sleep over.
There seems to be as much mompetition (thanks, Keesha! Hi!) over parties as there is over getting in to a good preschool or comparing notes as to when your kids became potty trained. Some parties are pretty small and quaint (my favorites!) and some are big hooplas with gift bags so fancy even I’d want one. The parties for our kids fall somewhere in between, more on the quaint side. This year, Mr. B will be having a magician who, for extra cash, also churns out balloon animals. There’s your party favor right there kids! You’re welcome. And since Mr. B could care less about creative decor, I’m buying helium balloons and streamers and calling it a day. Easy peasy.
Miss P, on the other had, had her birthday party here at our teeny home last weekend. And y’all, I went nuts with the crafting of the decor and the ambiance and the like. She wanted a Tangled party, and I took that idea and ran with it, as giddy and excited as a happy woman in a grassy meadow filming a tampon commercial. With a couple of googling results, I was equipped with some ideas and spent the week of her party cutting out sunbursts and braiding hair until my hands cramped into a rigid claw.
It must be lack of creativity I’m getting in the rest of my life, perhaps. This need to create and pour my soul in to something and watch a new idea sprout and take on a life of its own. Sure, I didn’t sleep for 5 nights, but I loved every minute of it.
I have even almost purged out of my memory the event that happened mid-week, where I spent two hours making a voluptous yellow yarn wig for Miss P to wear and look like Rapunzel, only for her to shoot me down after looking at it for two seconds and declare she wouldn’t wear it. In a stroke of genius (or perhaps lunacy), I deconstructed that wig two hours before her party and made long braids on headbands for all the girls at the party. What a hit they were!
And my little girl had an absolute blast. At some point during the party, I looked at her, leading all of her buddies in to her plastic playhouse in the backyard, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. She is no longer a baby. I knew that, in reality, but it just hit me. She plays with others now, has her own opinions and wishes, is fully aware that this day was for her. It feels like a long bridge to cross, from infancy to now. And yet, I feel I’ve traveled on it with some kind of Star Trek transporter at warp speed. Before I know it, she’ll be shunning me in public, spending all of her free time on the phone or internet, and telling me she hates me while rolling her eyes. Or something like that. And she won’t want birthday parties at our home filled with fantasy and yarn braids and construction paper decor. But maybe I’ll try to sneak in a streamer or two…
