I Survived. (Survival is a relative term.)
I am pleased to announce that The Birthday Party of 2008 is now history. I say The Birthday Party because I only do one birthday party a year. With children born in October, November, and December (and all the holidays that fall in between) there is no way I can do a birthday party for each child every year. So they rotate. Which pretty much makes me the meanest mom on the block. It’s a good thing motherhood isn’t a popularity contest.
Actually, if I’m being honest, the busyness of the season just gives me a valid excuse. Truth be told, I just detest having birthday parties. There. I said it. Does that automatically disqualify me from the Mom of the Year crown? Like I was in the running to begin with.
Well, then. Movingrightalong.
After debating several different locations, we decided that rather than take out a second mortgage on the house, we would par-tay at home. It was my daughter’s location of choice anyway. So we compiled all of your fantastic advice from this post and decided on a pajama party without the overnight part. (I barely do birthday parties; overnights are pretty much out of the question.)
We asked the girls to come in pajamas and slippers and to bring sleeping bags, and we did all the typical pajama party sort of activities — I painted their nails, we did a craft, played a few games, and then we set them in front of a movie with popcorn in those cute little plastic popcorn containers that look like movie popcorn bags that I snagged from the Dollar Spot in Target. While they watched the movie, I visited with an old friend, and my husband took my son out Christmas shopping, which is quite impressive since usually they wait until Christmas Eve for that. They’re on top of the game this year!
After the movie, we had cake and ice cream, C opened her presents, and that was the end of that! Because of the busyness of the season, only four of the nine girls we invited could make it, so it was a small group, which is a good thing because I’m pretty sure I’d be on a plane to Maui if the party had been any bigger. Yes, I know I’m a wimp. And I’m quite content in my wimpiness, thankyouverymuch.
I am pleased to say that all the little girls enjoyed each other and were kind, which is usually the biggest reason I come home from birthday parties disgruntled. It’s amazing how mean little girls can be to one another. But we had none of that; they were absolutely delightful. So all in all, it was a success.
I wish I could post a slew of pictures, but most contain other children whose photos I don’t have permission to post. But here is the cake.
And my daughter licking the bracelet that came on the cake.
Ooooh, here’s one I can post. Opening presents. That’s my other daughter on the left, and some of you may recognize Sassy in the green from Kim’s blog.
C’s birthday is actually on Christmas Eve, and in anticipation of not having time to post her birthday post on that day, I will write that here. Between being the middle child and having a Christmas birthday, this poor child is going to get the short end of the stick one way or the other so I might as well just resign myself to the fact and get over the guilt right here and now.
My darling C,
Of all my children you are the most like me. I apologize once and for all. You are moody, kind-hearted, disorganized, energetic, friendly, sometimes painfully shy, sometimes painfully outgoing, and always compassionate (except when your sister is being mean, but who could blame you; she’s brutal sometimes!) You’re my girly-girl and my shopping partner. I hope we enjoy many years of shopping together and trying out new makeup. You’re athletic and strong. You’re so proud of yourself for scaling the monkey bars. I can’t believe you weighed less than five pounds when I brought you home from the hospital.
I know I lose my patience with you all too often, and it grieves me. With God’s grace, you won’t need too much therapy. I love that you like to collect bugs. (And that goes to show that no two people are exactly alike; I certainly have no affinity for bugs.) I love your made-up songs and your laughter and your sunny smile.
Happy Birthday, baby girl! I love you more than you know.