Last month I planned a party for Maggie’s 5th birthday. I had grand ideas, fun imagery & a confidence that I could pull it off.
For some reason having a child implants this chip like device in your brain. Now some women get it and some just don’t. Those lucky women who don’t get the chip live normal lives and don’t take themselves too seriously. I desperately wish I was one of those women. This chip I’m referring to is the “over-thinking, doing, and maternal stereotype achieving but not so much June Clever” chip.
This chip activates around birthdays and holidays transforms me into a person I’m not. Crafty. Crafty with kids. For Maggie’s birthday party, we decided to have a tea party. A mad hatter tea party to be exact. The kids would decorate hats (that I will make), have hot chocolate for tea (while wearing hats) & eating little sandwiches and cakes. In theory this party sounded sweet & fun. In practice a whole other party went on.
For starters I wrote on the invites that the children should dress “silly”. One child dressed silly and by the time the second child showed up unsilly, Maggie asked to change back into her regular clothes. Okay. I thought… no big deal. Everyone is munching a bit, the kids are running around this is good. This is what kids do. Then I decided it’s hat decorating time. Great! Kids belly up to the table that I have very large Cat in the Hat style yellow hats (maggie picked the color) with bags and boxes of adornments to be applied. Feathers, stickers,ribbons, all for the taking. I felt good, until one child didn’t want to decorate. Hmm. Didn’t expect that. Oookay. O for 2 here.
Maggie is sitting on the couch. I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was bored. I suggest opening gifts. She was all for the gifts. So we never really actually had the tea party part. Through out the party I filled up little tea cups with hot chocolate, but not actual tea party style. It was during the gift opening experience, that Maggie stops. Stops cold with a look on her face. A look I know very very well. She stands up and I look at her and ask “are you going to be sick?”, she breaks into a full fledged run and goes to the bathroom to throw up. Mind you before this she downed two cups of hot chocolate that I made with milk. Not remembering that if Maggie drinks too much chocolate milk it makes her sick. Therefore by making the chocolate hot my brain did not pick up the fact it was the same thing as chocolate milk. Basically I poisoned my child with hot chocolate. At her own birthday party.
By the end of the party Maggie had a 102 temp and I started to drink rum and apple cider. It’s quite nice, really. A fall themed drink.
I may never throw a party like that for my girl any time soon, but I think all in all everything turned out okay. Even if every kid cried at least once.
It’s hard to believe that she’s 5 now. I always get very depressed around her birthday & I can never pin point why. I cry for about two weeks & this time was not different. I look at that face. That sweet beautiful face and remember the day she was born and what a cool baby she was and how sad I’ll never get those times back. I try not to live in the past, but I loved that part of our lives so much. Getting to know her, taking care of her, loving her was/is so precious to me. Don’t get me wrong I love that I can continue doing that as she grows up because she changes so much, but I miss that time. I miss the newness of our life together. But I love I get to grow old with that face.
2 Comments
November 9, 2009 at 4:48 am
Every kid at the party always cries at least once at that age. Don’t they?
November 10, 2009 at 5:31 am
Oh snap about the hot chocolate!
You are braver than I. The imp still hasn’t had an official party with other children. I’ve been telling her that family parties are the way to go. She’ll be five next year though and I’m sure she’s not going to fall for it then…as evidenced by her asking way more questions about the circus than she did last year.
I know what you mean about the birthday tears…on your part. I do the same thing…pretty much any time I look at one of her baby pictures. Oh, and sometimes when I see other babies and remember mine being a baby. Sheesh.