After a week's vacation in Minnesota (and it's hour time change), and a raging ear infection for Mommy, I was a little apprehensive about the party. After all, theory and practice an be two very different things, and I wasn't sure our plan would hold up.
We came back from our vacation on Sunday, the party was scheduled for the next Saturday. Every night that week, we ran around after the kids had gone to bed, gathering our supplies and prepping for the fun. On Friday night, we went to bed confident and happy that the morning would be a breeze. My parents were headed up to help, and the party wasn't until 1. All we needed to do was set things up in the yard, make the
goodie bags, clean the bathrooms and inflate the helium balloons.
Fast forward to 12:10 PM on party day. I was
unshowered, sweating in the 90 degree heat, and hacking up ribbon with a paring knife, as I'd misplaced the scissors in the confusion of the morning. Nothing to eat, nothing to drink, panic gnawing at my guts. No possible way we were going to be ready in time. I finally tore myself away from the last of the projects, trying to imagine what the other parents would think when they arrived. Nothing says "welcome to the party" like a sweaty, maniacal lunatic with a balloon.
And then, a miracle happened. The first car rolled into our driveway at 12:50, just as I was putting out the first of the snacks. After the panic of the morning (when you have to tell the birthday boy to "keep his hands off anything that looks like it's fun",
nobody's having fun), it was time to relax.
After the first few minutes, as the kids trickled in, Griffin started to realize that the party we had been talking about for weeks was finally happening. The cool stuff we'd put out was thoroughly enjoyed: faces were painted, noisemakers were blown, and the little foam airplanes were worth their weight in gold. There were groups of kids inside playing with blocks and matchbox cars, groups of kids outside, in the tent, on the rocking horse, in the little carpeted area we'd set up for the babies in attendance. Parents were chatting and snacking, taking the "grand tour" of our little house.
The day was sunny and clear, and the 90 degree temperature kept the bugs away. The benefit of being in the woods is that there's always shade, always a cool place to sit, and it helped to keep the kiddos from getting overheated. The frosting on our homemade cupcakes did not appreciate the heat, so "sugar time" was a little bit messy. The birthday boy helped himself to 2 cupcakes, one chocolate, one vanilla. Hey, if you can't have 2 cupcakes on your birthday, when can you have them?
After we sang and served cupcakes, the kids started a big game of "chase". One of the boys gathered up all the "punching balloons" we had blown up, and strapped them to his arms with the handy elastic. The rest of the kids chased him in and out of the house, shrieking and laughing, making up their own fun. At one point all of them, including balloons, were squeezed into the downstairs bathroom. It was at this point that I actually remembered we had a camera somewhere, and got it out to take some pictures.
As the day wound down, and the kids packed up to go, we realized that despite all the craziness of set up (evidenced by the wild variation of
balloon string lengths. Apparently, when you're hacking them off with a knife it's hard to be accurate) we had a terrific day, as did our guests. The birthday boy was tired but happy, as were the birthday parents. That was the point, right?
