Well my gal finally got her long-anticipated birthday party. We had to cancel last week because she was sick. She was just elated that everyone was able to attend the rescheduled date and could barely stay in her skin as we decorated. Now the party’s over and I think she is totally contented with a wonderful evening celebrating her birth.
I tend to be more critical, however. It has been a while since I put on a kid’s birthday party in my house. We’ve been doing family things, or out-of-the-house gatherings the last couple of years. I used to do it as easily as breathing. We did themed parties, and I made fancy cakes and prepared a feast. We had cool games, dressed up to enhance the theme and elaborate activities that adults and kids just loved. I even hosted the birthdays of friends’ kids! I don’t know what is so very wrong with me, but things just seem to come up short nowadays.
I bought a cake instead of making one—and it had raspberry filling. So cool for real adults, but for food babies like me, mixing dessert with fruit is just silly. I could hear my little guests voicing my sentiments while eating. I felt like I was a bad host to the adults. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize we were missing a dad! Goodness!
I also felt like a bad host to the kids. I hadn’t accounted for larger bodies coursing with hormones when I planned my daughter’s party. I didn’t know how to respond to the flirting going on among our older-sibs-guests. They threw food, ate off of serving utensils and just couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves. I used to be a youth group minister. I get teens and how they act. These guys were just having a good time. But I found myself wracking my brain for solutions to get them to calm down a bit but still have fun.
If I were teaching a class with 16 kids, I could have done it without batting an eye. But a party is supposed to be fun—no rules, have a ball! I feel like I am an old fuddy duddy when I stop confetti throwing, or pinch fights. I actually had to threaten to send a kid to go sit with his mom if he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Yuck! Who wants to go to that party?
Thankfully I have about six months before I have to think about this again. I believe we will be taking a different tack when planning our next celebration. When did I get to be so freakin’ boring??