I was just plain arrogant when I claimed to NOT be stressed out about the upcoming birthday party, earlier this week. (Spring Party Planning Madness)
In making that claim, I did what I do best - I spit in the face of Murphy's Law, shook my fist at fate, and dared life to throw me it's best curve ball.
Which is why, in my opinion, I was stricken with a stomach bug Thursday night. I spent the night in the bathroom floor, trying to remember why similar situations hadn't seemed nearly as traumatic in college after a good frat party. (Probably because I had been to a good frat party...and didn't have to work in the morning...and throw a party for 20 little kids the day after that.)
The next morning, the hubs made valiant efforts at being a nurse. He was shocked (SHOCKED, I tell you) to learn of my illness, and couldn't imagine how he had missed out on all of the action. He brought me water and an English muffin. The 4-year-old drank the water and the 2-year-old ate the English muffin. While our 2-year-old jumped up and down on my stomach shouting, "Mom. Mom. MOM. MOOOOOM!" there were offers made of people staying home and taking care of me. I informed my family that I loved them very much, but that if they loved me - they would leave.
It was quiet. I slept all day. My party of dutiful nurses returned home that evening, bringing with them gifts of Gatorade, mac-n-cheese....and fish sticks. (I just.........fish sticks?!) I said thank you, drank the Gatorade, made myself a bagel, and returned to the couch to continue dying slowly.
I spent a good 15 minutes being jumped on, took one good headbutt to the nose from the youngest, told the hubs no, I wasn't quite up to changing poop diapers yet, and squashed a half-dozen temper-tantrums over the kids not being able to drink after me because all of a sudden, Gatorade was the only thing they had ever wanted to drink, ever, in their whole life, and I was a total "meanie-butt" for not allowing them to partake of it. I announced that I was going to take a bath. I will not lie - I just wanted to hide in the bathroom.
My hiding spot was safe for 2 minutes and 16 seconds. Then the door opened, and my two lovely daughters came in to check on me...each dragging one of their little folding chairs behind them. They set up their little chairs and sat there eating pretzels. I closed my eyes and pretended to be very boring, so they would consider relocating. I gave up on the bath 10 minutes later. By then, there was a handful of pretzels, a blue crayon, and one of Daire's socks floating in the tub with me. There had been an assassination attempt on my cell phone. They had "helped" me wash my hair. Daire had tried to get in the tub with me - with her clothes on. By the time they went to bed, I went too. The alarm had rung, my "sick day" was over and I needed to put my game face on for the next day.
I felt fine this morning - my "bug" was behind me, and I was ready to throw a party for my babies. I still wasn't freaking out because I have AMAZING people in my life who had set up and decorated everything for me. Thank you, baby Jesus!
We arrived at our church (a.k.a the party site) and the bounce house was being delivered. It was time to cue a mini-panic attack. It was raining, so the bounce house was being set up indoors. Scratch that - the ceiling was ONE FOOT too short, so the bounce house was NOT going to be set up indoors. That's ok. We will come up with a Plan B. No? Ok, Plan C...Plan D...Plan E?! I started feeling sick again.
We settled on a suitable location for the bounce house outdoors (the portico turned out to be perfect...whew!) Disaster averted. Ok, now we're late to pick up the pizza. No big deal, I called ahead it will be ready. It was not ready. I called yesterday. The hubs reported the following conversation:
Hubs: I'm here to pick up 16 pizzas.
Pizza Guy: *shouting over his shoulder, to another employee* HEY - that order WAS for today!
Hubs: Soooo...they're not ready.
Pizza Guy: Not really...you were supposed to be here at 11:30...
Hubs: Soooo....you had an EXTRA 30 minutes....
Pizza Guy: Oh...well, yeah.
Hubs: It's ok, how long do I have to wait?
Pizza Guy: 10 minutes.
Hubs: ....you're going to make 16 pizzas in 10 minutes?
Pizza Guy: Uhhhhh....
An hour later, the hubs showed up with pizza. He was alarmed about our country's future in the hands of today's youth. I was glad I had stopped and picked up the chips and dip.
The rest of the day was a blur of happy chaos and memory making. The girls were happy with their party and I was happy to watch them be happy. I didn't get a lot of pictures, but such is the story when you're in the moment.
Every year, I learn a little more about throwing the "perfect" birthday party. Little tips and tricks on everything from a cheaper or easier way to do something, a better way to organize things, or "the" best way to set it all up. This year, I decided that we will just leave town next year. We are "eloping" for their birthdays.
I reserve the right to recall the genius of this same plan for any and all holidays.
♥M
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