The Birthday Bash (or why mommy drinks before noon)
I didn’t mean for it to be that way (famous last words). I spent more time stressing about this blessed party than I did on my own wedding.
Last year we had a small intimate party at a park. No fuss, no muss (or however that saying goes). But we had a lot of people cancel at the last minute (sick kids or whatever) that it was VERY intimate with only a couple of kids. I didn’t want that to happen this year, so I think I over compensated a bit too much.
So I invited his entire class plus his childhood buddies (you know because he is so old..:). And that dang Murphy’s Law again. Not only did EVERY single person I invite actually RSVP (Seriously? When does that EVER happen?) they also were bringing their entire family trees to the party.
So the little low cost pizza party at Joe Mama’s (by the way, Joe Mama’s Pizza ROCKS and are amazing to work with) has now blown up in my face and is giving me nightmares. Not to mention that the ex and the stepmom were also going to be there as well. No added stress there whatsoever.
The night before the bash my step daughter and I were feverishly making goody bags (again, another birthday party etiquette rule, must have the goody bags if you want to make the Kindergarten social circuit). And as the pile of bags grew on the table, my ever observant husband casually asked why we were making so many. Jade replies, “Daddy, there are going to be 40 kids at the party!” (Thanks Jade…was hoping to slip that one by him).
So after Shane figured the math (hate him for being a math whiz) for how much it was going to cost to feed forty families (another birthday tip, don’t plan a party around mealtime unless you are Daddy Warbucks) he made me sit down and pinky swear that I would never do this again. Believe you me, I would love to be done with the party planning business. It has taken years off my life.
Fast forward 24 hours. We are all passed out on the couch, house littered with wrapping paper, balloons with remnants of goody bags strewn all over the place. Nicholas is jittery from all the excitement and the twenty pounds of sugar that he consumed. Our pocketbooks are empty. I can still hear the ringing of forty kids screaming happy birthday in my ears.
Thank goodness for my fellow mom friend who snuck me a glass of vino (yes, it was only 11:30 a.m.). That is my last birthday party tip. Wine is a mom’s best friend