Cutting The Apron Strings

The other week, I received an email inviting Little Miss to a birthday party. It was for one of her favorite friends in school, and we've had a couple playdates back and forth, so I know Charlie's mom (not his real name), too. Little Miss loves birthday parties, and she's to the point now where she gets dropped off instead of parents staying for the fun and games.

Then there was this invitation. Little Miss was invited to go downtown (Chicago) on the train to the National Museum of Mexican Art for a craft before having lunch and returning home.

Wait, what?

Little Miss is six!

I almost dismissed it out of hand at that point. I could see so many ways for a group of children to go bad on the train or downtown. For some reason, I kept reading. The party was going to be only Little Miss, Charlie, and one other friend with both parents in tow.

I thought about it. And then I found out that the other child couldn't go so that it would be just Little Miss and her well-behaved friend. And the responsible parents. I didn't want to be the one to tell the boy he didn't get to have a birthday party because there would be no guests. And the ratio was pretty good. She'd been downtown before. And given that she's already broken her arm at her own birthday party, aren't we due for some good karma?

I finally decided to let her go, knowing the parents and itinerary of the outing.

Even after I made the decision, I still wrestled with it. She's six. While she stays with adults and follows directions, if anything going wrong, I'm a long way from her to help. While the likelihood is that everything would be fine, what if it isn't?

You can imagine my relief when I found out that the party would instead be here in town with the kids going out to lunch and then a movie. Great, now she's having her first date instead.

So what would you have done? Would you have let your child go downtown in this situation?

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This Is How You Celebrate A Birthday?

Mister Man had his birthday party awhile ago, but I keep forgetting to post about this. I am so glad that I took pictures, because they crack me up every time I look at them.

Mister Man did a joint birthday party with his buddy Violet at a gymnastics facility. It worked out really well, as there was minimal organization on my part and they both adore gymnastics and running around, so everyone had a great time.

As the other mom and I were upstairs arranging the cake and snacks and such, our party coordinator came up to ask if we wanted to have them do a birthday swing over the pit. We both looked at each other and agreed - swinging over the pit and then falling into it is one of the the favorite activities of both children.

I didn't realize it was going to be quite like this.

Note the flying foam cubes. Everywhere. They were everywhere. Each of the birthday guests jumped into the pit and dug in deep. As they sang happy birthday to the birthday children, they threw the foam cubes at the defenseless swinging child - who was having an absolute blast.

I want my next birthday party at a gymnastics facility (ps that's Wednesday for those of you who want to get that last minute present ordered). This was wayyyyy too much fun. And yes, I inquired. My local facility will do adult parties.



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Nomination: Mother Of The Year

Two giveaways going on here and here.

***

I think this one finally puts me over the top. Not only do I win Mother Of The Year with this one (and seriously, no nasty comments please, it's been a really hard day), but I'm pretty sure that we've been to our first and only birthday party for Mister Man's kindergarten class.

Yep, we're already "that family" and it's only the fourth week of school.

Today, Mister Man had a birthday party for one of the kids in his class. The invitation didn't specify drop off or stay, and when I RSVPed, no one said anything, so I assumed that it would be a drop off party like most of the other parties we've been at for the last year. Besides, if I had to stay, I could.

Then my mom decided that the wee ones had to attend her neighborhood picnic today, so she'd just drop him off after it. I should never have agreed to that.

When I showed up at 4:45 to gather him up (the party ended at 5), I saw a ton of cars parked in the street. It was obviously not a drop off party. Thank you, MOM for neither a) staying at the party nor b) calling me so I could show up.

I could hear noise in the back yard, so I headed back that way. The birthday boy was in the midst of opening all his presents. I casually scanned the group for Mister Man, trying to remember what he was wearing. I then scanned it less casually. I moved to a different vantage point and looked again. No Mister Man.

I snuck over to a mom I recognized (remember, fourth week of school here) and asked if by chance anyone was in the bathroom. Then I found a grandparent who told me there were a few children inside. Fortunately, Mister Man was one of them. He came out when I told him presents were being opened.

Then he saw the cake and asked if he could have cake because apparently he (along with a couple other children) couldn't be bothered to sing happy birthday and have cake. Nice parents got him cake and ice cream, and I tried to sink into the floor.

Shortly thereafter, I noticed he was outside only in his socks. I asked where his shoes were, and he decided they must be in the front yard by the bouncy house. He went into the front yard to put on his shoes. I started talking to a mom.

After a period of conversation, I noticed that Mister Man hadn't yet come back. I sighed and headed to the front yard to round him up. He wasn't in the front yard. Neither were his shoes. My heart started to sink.

I went through the house thinking I must have missed him. I walked back around to the front where other children were now climbing on the uninflated bouncy house. One tried to climb in it, and a parent decided it was a bad idea because "you could suffocate in there."

I stared at the lumpy bouncy house and imagined Mister Man's suffocated body inside it. I closed my eyes trying to dispel the image. A parent turned the bouncy house on, and I waited impatiently for it to blow up so I could ensure Mister Man was not inside. He wasn't.

I walked around to the back one more time before I started asking parents if they'd seen Mister Man. None had. He wasn't in the bathroom. He wasn't in the playroom. He wasn't upstairs or in the basement.

I was in full-on panic mode. I even checked my car to see if he'd decided to head that way and was waiting for me.

No Mister Man. I can feel the panic rising in my throat as I start to think about what I do next.

At that point, I hear someone say, "Is that him there?" and I look to see him coming into the yard. Oh, thank GOD.

He is not one to wander, as he had a bad experience when he was three and knows better, so I hadn't worried about telling a child who will be six in three weeks to walk to the front of a house to put on shoes by himself. I obviously need to rethink this, while still ensuring I don't turn into a helicopter parent.

I finally got the story from him, at which point I alerted the host to ensure Mister Man was the only child who had been unaccounted for. While he was looking for his shoes (which were inside the house and put on after he was found), two children asked him if he wanted to walk one of them home. He agreed. Three children left the party without telling anyone and crossed at least one street by themselves.

Mister Man told me that after they dropped the girl off at her house, he came back to the party, but the other boy in the red shirt did not. He didn't know who the other person was or where he lived, but he knew that he did not come back to the party.

After talking to the birthday mom, I discovered that both children lived in the neighborhood. The one in the red shirt was a preteen and had also most likely gone to his house. And probably should have known better than to take a strange kid with him. But this is still on Mister Man. Apparently Safety Town did not have the appropriate impact on him that it should have.

He is now very clear that he is never to leave somewhere without a) informing an adult and b) ensuring that it is appropriate for him to do so. And he also knows that he is never to cross a street in a strange neighborhood without an adult, which means the recent street crossing privileges when he's within my sight in our neighborhood have at the moment been revoked.

I think he's learned his lesson on this one, but it's one I never wanted him to have to learn. On the plus side, I think this cements my Mother Of The Year Award, and I'm pretty sure we won't be invited to any more birthday parties.

We may have to switch schools next year for this reason alone. For Mister Man's birthday, we have one classmate able to come, three unable to make it and fifteen haven't yet RSVPed. I'm hoping all fifteen don't take this opportunity to avoid us.

I'll take that in a heartbeat, however, over what could have been the alternative outcome.

So This Is What Happens When You Get Older

Phew - I'm almost done with birthday-palooza. I hate to say it, but I think I'm partied out after this weekend. Seven parties in three days, plus one more tonight and one tomorrow. I'm getting old!

But so is Little Miss, or so she informed me on Saturday.

Me: So do you like being four? Does it feel any different today?
Little Miss: Yes, I feel different.
Me: Really, what feels different?
Little Miss: My tummy.
Me: Your ummm tummy feels different today?
Little Miss: Yes!
Me: How does your tummy feel different?
Little Miss: I don't know. It just does.

Well, ok then.

And a few minutes later, unsolicited:

Little Miss: Mommy, my arms also feel much longer and stronger now that I'm four, too.

So now if you want to know whether you're getting older or not, just check out your arms and your tummy. It's foolproof according to Little Miss!

And yay, she had fun at her birthday party!

Mister Man decorated the birthday cake for her (dairy free cherry with chocolate icing, per request) with her dollhouse toys. They had pizza just like we did -- I thought it was sweet that he chose the doll and food that looked like her.



Notice that he also put a begging cat into the tableau. I swear our cats are better mannered than this one!



For the party at the salon, we had ice cream cone cupcakes that were quite yummy -- or so I was told. By that point, I was done with cake!



Little Miss and her friends all had their nails painted, hair done, and played fun games like freeze music (or whatever it's called) and Simon Says.



Her favorite present, of course, was the dairy free chocolates that Mister Man and I bought for her. We're raising her right!

Pump That Party!

Mister Man and I had a birthday party to attend this afternoon for a friend of his from preschool. We did the usual choosing the present and handwriting the card, then hop skipping and jumping to the party itself.

As seems to the be the case more often than not, the party was at Pump It Up. For those of you who haven't been there, it's a warehouse converted to hold large inflatables that range from obstacle courses to huge slides to basketball courts and more. The newer ones even offer rock climbing walls. If you want to wear out a child, that's the place to head.

How do I know so much about this? Why, because this is (literally) our twenty-fourth party there. At the eighth party, I started counting. It started in April of 2006, when Mister Man was two and a half (and Little Miss was an oh so cute eight and a half month old trying to climb in all the jumping things, too).

It's a popular place to have a party. I discovered how popular in talking to the friend's mom today who informed me that she booked this party in March. And she didn't get the time slot she wanted because that was already booked. Wow.

So far, we've avoided having ours there -- for a few reasons. I'm a fan of having more unique and memorable parties than the one everyone else is doing. And the Pump It Up parties are not exactly cheap . I'm guessing it's all that liability insurance! At a party in December, Mister Man announced as we were leaving that he wanted to have his party at Pump It Up when he turns six.

*sigh*

For the most part, we've done parties at home, excluding Mister Man's last one and Little Miss's upcoming one, both of which were party packages won at fundraisers. It's the first time he really asked for a particular party, and I told him that if he still wanted it there when it was closer to his party that we'd work it out. I figured we'd have plenty of time for him to get fixated on another idea.

Oh, did I mention that we've been to five parties there since then? Yep, each time he tells me it's his favorite place ever, and that he wants a party there. And apparently, I need to get on the ball if I want to have one there in early October. (Hey, Pump It Up in Vernon Hills, if you're listening, do you have a party open for the week of October 11, give or take?)

I remember this phenomenon when I was growing up. All the cool kids had their birthday parties at Cheapskate -- small yellow birdie logo included. We skated for an hour or more, shooting the duck, skating backwards, and all the other fun moves and games. We played skee ball and bought bubble gum from the concession stand. At the end, we'd go to the back corner where presents were opened (and we discovered to our chagrin that Sally bought the exact same present we did!) and cake was eaten.

Pump It Up is that same phenomenon. The wee ones loved it as toddlers, and I see kids eight and older still having a blast there. To be honest, I sort of miss the days when the wee ones needed my "help" to play there. And besides, how can you deny smiles like this?



(Yes, that's my scary lizard alien boy... I'm not sure how I did it, but this photo cracked me up! Real smile below.)



So what's the cool place to have a party where you live?

Call Me Scrooge

I feel like a bad person, but I'm getting a little annoyed by birthday parties lately. Of course, I'm referring to the birthday parties that my wee ones are constantly being invited to. After all, they're in daycare, preschool, Sunday School, playgroups, neighborhood and my friend "groupings" which all seem to have children who have birthday parties.

My personal favorite is the invitations to birthday parties that Little Miss gets invited to from daycare. She goes two days a week in the afternoons only (after preschool). The daycare is also a preschool where children go for mornings only. And we have been invited to two birthday parties so far since school started for kids that Little Miss has never heard of. I've politely called and declined the invitations. Wouldn't you check to see if the children you're inviting are at least friends of yours?

I got an invite in the mail today for a friend of mine's daughter who is turning two. She's been part of our playgroup since our older children were only a couple months old. Mister Man was not invited to her older child's birthday party last month because it was limited to "only" twenty-five children, and apparently Mister Man didn't make the cut. She felt compelled to call to tell me about this to be sure that I was ok about it. What am I supposed to do when she calls, regardless of how I fell, tell her that Mister Man has to be invited?

Now her daughter, who is over a year younger than Little Miss, is inviting Little Miss to her birthday party. Oh, but it isn't just her birthday party. It's her birthday party and the party for three other little girls that I've never heard of. You know what? I think I'll pass, thanks.

I get wanting to minimize the number of birthday parties, and sometimes the cost, but if you're doing a party for multiple kids, invite only people who are friends with all the children. We went to a birthday party this summer for another friend from that playgroup where it was her party and the party for a boy from her preschool who we'd never heard of. And it was at that boy's house. It was really awkward for all of us who were friends from playgroup but didn't know any of the preschool people.

And this day was coming, I knew.... We received an invitation for the daughter of a friend of mine via Evite. Yep. "My daughter is having a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese on November X at 10:30am. A light lunch will be served at the end of the party. My daughter has created a birthday wish list at Target.com. A printable list is also available in-store."

Really? It's come to an Evite? What happened to the invitations that you painstakingly pick out and write so that the child has something to open in the mail and tape to the calendar to look forward to? That part makes me a little sad. I get using Evite for casual get togethers -- I've used it for my Super Bowl bashes. But for a little kid's birthday party? Maybe it's just me, but it rubs me the wrong way.

Oh, and if I want to ask you what your child is interested in so that I can get a "good" gift for you, that's my choice. I think it's horrendously tacky and just feels yucky to me to send me a link of where your child has created a birthday wish list. Like I said, call me Scrooge.

Plus, the party -- for a girl just turning three -- is at Chuck E. Cheese which is a place I loathe. Little Miss isn't old enough to play the games, and the noise is just a bit overwhelming for her. It's so not my favorite place, let alone for a birthday party. Unfortunately, that birthday party is being held on a Wednesday morning when Little Miss has preschool, so we won't be able to attend that one either.

I feel like a crotchety old lady with my birthday rules, but it still just gives me an odd feeling. Birthdays to me should be fun celebrations made with thought and care that involve people you truly care about and want there to help you celebrate. All of these seem more like a grab for presents at a minimal cost and effort for the parents.

Am I being too harsh here? How do you celebrate birthdays?

Happy Birthday, Rosie And Vince

So this is the kind of mom I am.


Mister Man announced to me on Wednesday last week that it was Rosie's birthday that day. Rosie was turning one. He asked if we could have a birthday party, and after giggling internally I agreed. A half hour later, Mister Man announced that it was also Vince's birthday. We agreed to celebrate both at once.


Luckily, we were running low on some staples -- milk, tortillas, pasta, cheese, fruit -- and had to go to Publix anyway. My dad and I found the bakery section and their cakes awaited us. Mister Man had informed me that Rosie wanted a chocolate cake with vanilla icing.


I don't like chocolate cake. I'd decided that Publix was conveniently going to "not have" any chocolate cakes, knowing that he'd deal. I sifted through cake after cake, rejecting many because they were chocolate or because they used dark blue or red frosting -- and those bitter aftertastes gross me out. My dad pointed out one that was mostly white frosting and just a tiny bit of light blue icing on the flowers.


I picked up the cake and asked the nice lady in the bakery section to write "Happy Birthday, Rosie -- R-O-S-I-E" and she started to turn away "And Vince!" I called out to her. She sort of turned and looked at me oddly, but went to do her writing. I got my cake back.





Have I not introduced you to Rosie and Vince before? Sorry, my bad! Meet Rosie (blue) and Vince (brown).

Go ahead. Make your comments now.

Unfortunately, while I did remember to buy candles, as you can see, I didn't think about matches. Remember, we're in a hotel in Florida. I'm actually pretty happy that they don't stock matches in the rooms. Fortunately, Mister Man was a good sport, and we were able to sing and blow out the not lit candles without a fuss.

We all enjoyed our cake (and ice cream), and Mister Man let me know that Vince really loved his special chocolate cake. Oh, did I mention that in my fluster of trying to find a cake that didn't have bad icing I forgot to check what kind of cake it was? Oops. That's ok; I really don't need the cake anyway!

So of course, what do you suppose the next words out Little Miss's mouth were? Yep, Snowy is also celebrating a birthday. That day. How do you say no to a face like this?

Ok, maybe it could be Friday. We actually ended up celebrating it on Saturday, thanks to some leftover cupcakes that Dawn left me from Joe's birthday -- which yay saved me from another trip to Publix to buy more cake and sweets none of us need.

And that, lady and gentleman, is the kind of mom I am.

I'm Not Overcompensating

I sort of fell down with Little Miss's birthday in that I didn't think about it until about a week before her actual birthday. It was summer, and time just got away from me.

My husband is no help. When he was growing up, he never had birthdays celebrated at all. Well, I shouldn't say that, but he never had a birthday party. As in completely, totally nothing. His mom made him a birthday cake only a few times. He doesn't get the birthday thing, so I'm on my own.

For Mister Man, I figured out quite awhile ago what I was going to do. The trick was trying to find a time to do it. His birthday is in October. Looking back, I really didn't plan that out too well. I didn't get married in fall because, hello!, that's football season. Silly me, I didn't ensure that I wouldn't have a child in fall.

Birthday parties generally happen on weekends and usually on Saturdays. So let's run through my calendar this fall. Sept 13? NU football game. Sept 20? NU football game. Sept 27? Ok, actually I could do that day but it's so early in the school year and two weeks before his birthday. Nah. Oct 4? Husband's family reunion. Oct 11 (his actual birthday)? NU game. Oct 18? NU. Oct 25? In Florida. Nov 1? Ok, I could maybe do that although we get back from Florida on Oct 30 and Halloween is the next day and wow that would be tight. Nov 8? NU. Nov 15? Friend's wedding in Seattle. Nov 22? NU game. Nov 29? CARE Faire that I volunteer at and the Sat of Thanksgiving weekend. Dec 6? Ok, that's getting ridiculous.

So apparently the birthday is November 1. Was it this hard when we were growing up?

I remember my mom always throwing great parties for me. They were always at home (except for the one year I talked her into having it at Cheapskate -- the local roller rink), and we always had a ton of fun.

I think my favorite was when I turned 8 and had my first big sleepover. I got to invite seven other girls, and we all had our sleeping bags. Nowaways, we probably would (ok, at least in my area) have someone come in to do hair extensions and nails and makeup, but we did it all ourselves.

We had pizza for dinner, then we started on the requisite fun. Do you remember light as a feather stiff as a board? I don't think it worked for any of us, but we were 8, so what did we know? Then we spent hours making the prediction triangle things and asking questions of it. I actually even partly remember how to make the folded paper thing-a-ma-bob, but I can only get about five steps in. Someday I'll have to go back and relearn how to be an 8 year old girl.

From what I remember, we stayed up until past six in the morning. My poor mom was probably sitting on the steps the whole night watching over us and worried about us. Nonetheless, she had a lovely breakfast of pancakes waiting for us around 9 or so in a vain attempt to rouse us. Parents picked up all my friends by 10 or so, and I slept the rest of the day away.

When I think back on it, all my memories of birthday parties are the things that I did with my friends. It isn't the presents I got (or didn't get), and it isn't the glitz and glamour that I cared about -- nor did I have it. I can only hope that the wee ones have as happy a memories of their birthdays as I do.

And yes, I'll be the mom sitting on the steps in the middle of the night listening to the whispering and giggling and hearing my heart break as I realize that Mister Man and Little Miss are no longer wee ones.

I'm So Behind In My Birthdays

... but we did finally celebrate Little Miss's third birthday.

We had a lot of fun inviting her preschool class from last year (I agonized over this one knowing that we wouldn't see most of these children again, as she's going to a different preschool this year -- more on that in the next few days -- but finally decided that since those were kids she wanted to invite, I'd invite them). We also invited our playgroup friends, friends from the neighborhood, etc. Lucky for me, the second week in August appears to be the time when the majority of people around here are on vacation.

That meant that instead of 31 children in my home, I had only 13. That is honestly the smallest birthday party I've ever hosted.

It's also the first party for Little Miss that hasn't involved rain at some point, not that I'm complaining about that part.

I am a big fan of the make a craft of some sort that is also the party favor so you don't go home with a goodie bag full of stuff you don't need or want. I've been to too many of those birthday parties already. Mister Man has had a chocolate (as in make your own) party, a cookie decorating party, a treasure hunt for puzzle pieces party, etc.

For Little Miss this year, we did Making Friends. It is sort of like Build-A-Bear but ummm not with the same cache. The consultant dropped everything off with me ahead of time, so I had the three kinds of animals (elephants, pigs and monkeys), the stuffing, the star shaped hearts, the hospital namebands, and the birth certificates.

Whoo hoo -- that took all of seven minutes for everyone to make the animal and be done with that one. Hmm. Fortunately, it was great weather, so we were able to play outside and just have fun until cake time.

So what kind of a cake would a three year old girl want, you might ask?

Disney princesses? Of course not, that's what Mister Man wanted for his third birthday. And yes, I delivered. Totally age appropriate. Of course, we did have to do it while in Florida away from Daddy because Daddy was freaking out. Sadly I have no pictures of the cute little cake with the Dopey, Candlestick guy, Belle and Snow White figurines I found at Target.

She didn't want ponies or Dora or anything like that either.

No matter how many times I asked her (ok, begged her, really), all she wanted was a Batman Spiderman cake. Okie-dokie. I went to six stores before I finally found something that I could use for the cake. Do you like how Batman has just about captured the bad guy?

Lucky for me, she was happy with it.

And in case you're wondering, Mister Man's birthday isn't until October 11, but I've already called the restaurant where we're having to reserve the date for him. We're making pizzas and pasta. All I have to figure out is whether I'm going to do it November 1 or November 15. Those are the first days that don't coincide with us being in Florida or a Northwestern game. Sadly, I do have my priorities.

Oh, and he wants a Thomas cake. That I can do. Phew!

I'm On A Mission

Yesterday was another two birthday parties for us (yes, apparently we need fewer friends or friends with fewer children; we know). Fortunately, the wee ones did really well at both parties, and we had a great time.

The first birthday party was from 11 to 1, and my friends served food. A lot of it. My kind of party. For Little Miss's party next week, we're doing it from 10-12 and doing heavy snacks along with cake, and I feel horribly guilty. The second party from 12:30 to 3:30 (mind you, a good 45 minutes to an hour from the first party) served only cupcakes, although there was some fruit up on the deck, but no one spent any time there so it didn't get eaten.

Fortunately, I didn't have to do a drive through run on my way to the second birthday party, as the delivery many started his first of three trips into the house (ok, there were 82 people at the party -- the first child turned one) with more food than we could ever eat. As we sat at a table to eat our bounty, I noticed that they had snacky-type food sitting there for us.

Goldfish? Check. Animal crackers? Check. M&Ms? Check. Pretzels? Oddly missing, but ok. Bowl of funky looking stuff all mashed together? Check. Wait, what?

My gaze returned to the large pink bowl filled with what looked like a preschool project gone awry. Apparently someone had taken all the snacks and put them in a bowl then dumped glue atop them. Ewwww.

Then I realized that this didn't include the Goldfish or animal crackers (I was tired with all the entertaining of family, give me a break on the brainpower here). And I realized that there was no glue on the sides of the bowls. As I craned my neck to look at other tables, it became apparent that this was an actual offering, as every table had a bowl.

Being the good mom I am, I didn't try it. Instead, I offered a chunk to Mister Man. He's the more picky eater, so if he likes it, it must be good. He liked it and asked for more. And more. And more. And more. Then I cut him off.

But it was not so easy to stop myself. It was really good stuff. It was kind of like Rice Krispie treats on crack. It had Chex, Cheerios, pretzels, and M&Ms with some type of a whitish, clearish but still opaque coating.

It was vaguely reminiscent of a Chex Mix concoction a co-worker used to make that used two pounds of brown sugar, butter, and I forget what else to make the sauce. But that sauce was more clear than this. It was similarly sweet though, and the whole mixture was totally addicting.

I decided that this is what I needed for Little Miss's party. No questions whatsoever. Today I called my friend to ask for the recipe. Unfortunately, apparently it's something her MIL makes and brought to the party. And she won't share the recipe with anyone. Including them. Now her husband's been my friend for over a decade and they told me at their wedding that they always thought their son would marry me, but I know I don't rank ahead of the woman who gave them their grandson. Dagnabit!

I won't be deterred though. I will find a recipe for this ambrosia before next Saturday. Won't give me the recipe? Fine. I'll figure it out myself. I know the majority of it (and the proportions aren't key -- I know nuts were already left out of it). Figuring out the sauce/topping will be the challenge, but I know I'm up to it.

Of course, if someone reading my blog has heard of or has the recipe for this lovely mixture my friend's mom calls "the stuff" I wouldn't complain or consider that cheating.

Oops

Little Miss turns three on August 1. You remember the jokes about how the second child ends up with the short end of the stick? Hand me down clothes instead of new.... No baby classes.... Being carted around in the stroller during naptime to follow the older siblings' schedules....

Little Miss was lucky. She had none of this. Since her older sibling is a boy, the only hand me downs she gets are his pjs, and she loves him. While she also coveted his outgrown underwear, I drew the line there. She got to go to gymnastics and other classes when she was little, and I always honored her naps (and do to this day).

In the past few days, I've received a number of birthday invitations for the wee ones for their friends with summer birthdays. In fact, the most recent count is eight (yes, eight!) birthday parties between now and August 24.

As I hung them all up around my calendar (I've learned the hard way that I need the physical invite to show up to the right place at the right time), I realized that I haven't sent out invitations to Little Miss's party yet. It's now officially three weekends until the weekend closest to her birthday.

So I started looking at the calendar.

I can't do it the weekend before (first of all, we have another birthday party that weekend and it's way too soon to send out invites now). This is where planning this a month ago would have come in handy.

The weekend of her birthday already has two parties on the 2nd -- both ironically are pirate themed parties within an hour and a half of each other that had invitations arrive on the same day. The third is my dad's birthday, plus a neighbor is moving away, and I'm supposed to help host a going away party that day.

The next weekend has my MIL, FIL, BIL, his girlfriend AND my husband's best friend in town visiting Thursday through Sunday. While in some families this might constitute a great weekend for a party with all the extra hands to help, let's just say that isn't the case with my in-laws. Besides, my husband is going to three baseball games in two days with his best friend (one with his brother and the girlfriend), which leaves me alone to entertain. And I have a birthday party for good friends of mine in the neighborhood that Saturday AND a 40th birthday party for a good friend that night.

So now I'm looking at the following weekend. Two weeks after her birthday seems so sad to me. Am I a bad mom for not getting her party in before then? The good news is that she'll be able to drag it out longer, but really that's just good news for her and not for me, I suppose.

The plus side is that I at least know what I'm going to do for an activity and party favor. I always do parties at my house -- Mister Man's this year will be the first that I haven't -- which frequently involves a lot of work and thought. The train theme where I had three year olds following train tracks on a treasure hunt to find puzzle pieces for the puzzles they took home that ended at the train cookie decorating table was pretty cool. Ditto with the chocolate party that I replicated from a local business at home. But lots of work.

So for Little Miss this year? We're praying for decent weather so we can play outside -- preferrably off my landscaping. The past two birthday parties have involved rain for a half hour and always in the middle of the party versus earlier or later in the day. And I found a neighbor who has a business where she makes stuffed animals that the kids stuff themselves, name, and dress. She's pretty laid back about it, which means she charges me just for the animals and clothes and doesn't require that she's there, which makes it that much more expensive. Ta-da -- once again, the activity becomes the party favor.

The tough part for me right now is the guest list. I've thusfar for Mister Man always invited all the kids in his classes, plus our playgroup friends and select other good friends. This is the first year that Little Miss has been in preschool. But her birthday is August, so we haven't seen the majority of these people since school let out. And she's going to a different preschool this fall (which is also now up in the air and subject to a different post someday soon), where only a few kids from her previous class will go.

When I asked her who she wanted to invite to her party, she named off 6 of the 12 kids in her class, including both boys and girls. I can't invite over half the class and not the other half, right? But does it look weird to invite kids that we're not so likely to see that often (until kindergarten or at the park or library or soccer camp) even though she was pretty good friends with them during the year?

I feel a little better about this in that one of the pirate birthday invites we received was for a boy in Mister Man's preschool class that we're again not likely to see again (he's turning 5 and going to kindergarten, while Mister Man turns 5 in October and misses the cutoff). And the size of the party isn't really an issue either, as the guest list right now is 23 with 12 of the 23 being siblings from the same families and I've had up to 32 kids in my house for a party with no problems before.

One way or the other, I need to make a decision quickly though. Otherwise, the poor girl is going to be looking at photo albums when she's in high school (assuming I've printed and filed pictures from when she was two and three by then) wanting to know why she didn't have a party and her brother always did.

No Means No - Next Time!

All I have to say is I KNOW BETTER.

Somehow, my husband neglected to tell me that he’s stepping in to manage his baseball team this weekend while the normal manager is out of town. Oh, and that if the fields are at all questionable in terms of playing condition (uhhh, say from the constant rain we’ve had), the managers of the teams playing in the first game of the day have to be at the fields an hour and a half before the game.

Mister Man had a 10am birthday party this morning, and before we left we had a few tasks to complete. We had to wrap the presents for his friends and make the cards for them. Plus, we had to do the usual getting dressed, eating breakfast, showering, cleaning up and getting out the door by 9:40.

I didn’t factor in my husband not being around to help out with any of this. I finally called him around 9:10 to find out where our only roll of wrapping paper was, since he had wrapped the present for the birthday party on Wednesday. Oddly, it wasn’t back where it belonged, nor was it in the place my husband sometimes thinks it belongs. It turns out that while he had wrapped the present in the kitchen, he decided to put the roll into the playroom leaning between two bookshelves. OH! Of course! Fortunately, he called back before I panicked and wrapped the presents in newspaper. It was close though.

The good news is that the birthday party was great. We had no rain by the time the party started, and the sun even came out. The family had rented one of the huge bouncy houses that has a slide also integrated into the side of it, in addition to the huge trampoline they normally have in the backyard. Needless to say, the wee ones spent the entire two hours of the party going from one jumping activity to the other. They did take a brief break to sing happy birthday to the birthday boy, but neither of them were interested in the cupcakes, so back to jumping we went.

The neighborhood next to mine (we’re connected by a path, and our two neighborhoods make up my babysitting co-op) has a park that we’re trying to raise funds to rebuild and make it much nicer. Today, they had a fundraiser in the park where various neighbors made and were selling items – everything from stuff your own animals (ah-ha! An idea for Little Miss’s birthday party) to pancake puffs to pet rocks. I had promised we’d stop by there, so on our way home, we did the fundraising thing.

Shockingly, by the time we got home around 1, they were both exhausted. Mister Man decided he wanted to go straight to bed with no encouragement from me, which is unusual. I heard nothing from either of them – and even managed to get my own nap in, which tells you how tired I was – until I went to wake them up at 5. Even Little Miss was hard to wake up, and she usually pops right up when someone comes into her room.

At dinner, they were both still slightly out of it, but they insisted they wanted to go to the club and go swimming after dinner. I explained that we could do that, but it would mean they’d have to eat dinner, as I didn’t want them to be overwrought while swimming, as it had already been a pretty jam-packed day. Yep, they both ate a decent dinner, including a banana each for dessert.

My parents met us to go swimming, and we played in the pool until it closed at 8. Actually, the wee ones were ready to get out at 7:53, which is unusual for them. However, it was getting a bit cool, and I think they were feeling it. As I carried Little Miss into the locker room to change her back into street clothes, she laid her head against me and just hung out. When Little Miss is quiet and calm, that means she’s exhausted, and I know this. Really, I do know this.

When we all met back up in front of the club, my dad started asking if we could go to Steak ‘N Shake for some dessert. I declined, pointing out the bags under Little Miss’s eyes, Mister Man lolling around staring into space, etc. My dad kept begging and saying that it would be quick. And my husband threw in that they had $0.99 junior milkshakes right now. I kept demurring. They kept asking. My mom stayed out of it, as she’s usually with me on the “we don’t need to eat out or ingest and more junk food” kick. However, she told Little Miss that my parents would meet her at Steak ‘N Shake. So I gave in. Dumb, dumb me.

Following along with the theme of last night, service was incredibly slow, and both kids were showing how tired they were. However, I will say that Mister Man drew a very nice picture of James with his tender and a troublesome truck with coal in it. Mister Man couldn’t stay sitting in his chair, and when his milkshake came, he had no interest in drinking it but wanted to keep playing with (and breaking) the crayons. Hello, red flags! Little Miss was bouncing up and down on the booth bench.

To be honest, I don’t even remember what set her off, but my mom said something to her that caused her to just burst into tears. I took her outside, which is our routine when she gets overstimulated or overtired. We sit down on the curb and either sing a song or talk about a topic of her choice. Tonight, it was the three little pigs. Within about 20 seconds, she was fine again, and we went back in. Fortunately, my husband had heard me ask for a to go container for the 80% of my shake that I had yet to drink, and my mom and dad and husband drink like fiends and finished their shakes by that point.

When we got home, the wee ones told me they were too tired to put their shoes away, which again is telling. To brush Little Miss’s teeth (which I almost didn’t do at all but then remembered all the sugar in that shake!), I had to lay her one the counter and hold both her hands with one hand while I brushed her teeth with the other. You could say that she wasn’t a fan, but after pitching herself to the floor when I first presented the brush, I know her well enough to know that there aren’t many alternatives.

The poor girl has never and I do mean never, been up past 9pm before. I’m usually a stickler about sleep, both naps and bedtime, and tonight reminds me why. She was so overtired that she just didn’t know what to do with herself by this point. We sang our special song, and she was finally calm enough to try to sleep. I haven’t heard a peep from her, but I have my suspicions that she’ll be up around 5am.

Mister Man, on the other hand, went into his room as he was supposed to. Then he came out after five minutes because he had to go potty. Ten minutes later, he needed a drink. And another ten minutes later, he was out of his room in the bathroom again for something. At 10:37, he was still coming out of his room every so often. He doesn’t cry and fall apart like Little Miss does; his issue when he’s too tired is that he simply can’t sleep. He, too, will likely be up extremely early in the morning and be cranky the majority of the day. The last time he came out, I threatened him with not going to the Strawberry Festival if he came out of his room again and didn’t go straight to sleep. Knock on wood, it worked.

And yes, I would really have not gone to the festival tomorrow if he wasn’t able to sleep. While I want to go to the festival, as it’s fun to go to every year with the added bonus of tuckering out the wee ones. However, if they’re too tired when they first get there, it will just be a disaster. I’ve learned – the hard way, of course – that in situations like that, I’m best off just having a quiet day at home and praying that they take solid naps to get back on schedule.

But in the meantime, I’ve remembered how critical it is that the wee ones get their sleep. When I was buckling Mister Man into his carseat as we left Steak ‘N Shake, I mentioned that this was definitely too much for them. Mister Man even knew it, “Mommy, next time we swim until the pool closes, we need to just go straight home afterwards. We’re too little to stay out this late.”

Yeah, it’s sad when even he can figure this out. The good news is that once again I will stick to my no. The bad news is that I was sort of hoping that I’d be able to take them to see fireworks this year. And then again… maybe not!