Last week myself and another set of parents co-hosted our sons’ 2nd grade birthday party . It was an ordeal. To say the least. The hoopla was originally scheduled to happen at a local museum but due to logistics, the venue tanked. So the other parents and I scrambled at the last minute to find a back up: the local bowling alley.
As the date approached, my son fell ill with fever as did his co-host. We held off, hoping for health and instead, three hours pre-celebration we postponed. Thank goodness for SMS, email and cellphone technology. It all makes last minute change tenable.
We re-grouped and re-scheduled for the following week and luck was to be on our side: The celebration happened as planned. But not without incident.
Let’s just say that when you invite 35 kids – thirty-bleedin’-five – there’s bound to be a “hiccup” or two.
And so, the post-party day after was devoted to ME-chill out-time. I needed it. To regain my voice – lost as I attempted to out-shout the background music (score! on Lady Gaga), video arcade din and general bedlam. I also needed to relax after the tension of all that last minute hiccup stuff.
While chilling at home, I emailed my dear friend Keith with a party re-cap. I had to share it with someone. His reply: “I laughed out loud. Then I read it again and laughed again!” – prompted me to share it here.
It’s post-birthday party chill day. My friend D just showed up impromptu and we went to a French brasserie for coffee/food together. I also briefly met with a graphic designer for a project. Otherwise, NADA else on the schedule.
The party was slightly hectic – 35 kids. And honey, let’s just say these littl’uns DID NOT grow up playing in the local league. They was throwin’ the ball backwards into the spectator area, bouncing it from lane to lane, rollin’ it down the center panel between lanes. . .EVERYTHANG!
I was certain someone would get killed or lose a foot.
And of course, the “active” kids are the ones whose parents dropped them curbside and screeched away out of sight, leaving only tread marks in their stead. Bless their little hyped up souls. I went hoarse coaxing them NOT to throw balls the wrong way, drop balls on other kids’ toes, roll balls down the lane while the machine was wracking or take them to the toilet á la “this is mine!”…It was a job.
And let’s not forget the crying: One inconsolable who arrived as dinner was starting and missed the gaming, another who sobbed that his lane-mates were robbing him of his turn and another who DID NOT want to bowl – he had come for the video arcade!
But it was fun and my son had a really good time as did the other kids. And he got tons of gifts. And truth be known, it was the easiest party I’ve ever put on in terms of personal involvement. I merely had to buy party favors, email invites and shell out $$. Not too tough.
But, as the co-host-mom said the on the phone when she rang to check in: ‘It’s sort of like the Last Supper. Good thing it happened because it was the last time.’
I would have to vote an ‘Amen, sister!’ to that. Less is more & mass invite parties are passé. Even if it was my first.