Yesterday we had the privilige of celebrating Mimi's 2nd birthday with dear friends. We had honored her official birthday as a family last Monday, and as I just removed the last of the party decorations today I can say the week long festivities have come to completion, though the memories will last forever!
I have read that parents are supposed to limit the number of people invited to the party to the child's age. At 2, we could invite 2 guests. I'm unclear if that means the absolute total (adults and children) or just kids but either way this is simply impossible for us. At this age, children are not really "dropped off" for the party, they attend with their parents. Under the age=number of guests rule, families of 3 or more would have to draw sticks to see who could come and who had to stay home. If you count only kids, anybody with more than 2 children simply would not be invited. So we tend to throw the rule out the window and surround ourselves with people we love. Who cares if our house is small--we have a backyard to stretch out in. So what if rain is a serious threat in Seattle in June--we have a basement chock full of toys. Sharing life's important events with friends (and family when they are on the same side of the continent) is what matters.
With this attitude, we proceeded to invite 7 lovely families...Mimi's "aunts, uncles and cousins" from our travel group, good friends from time immemorium, and fellow Ballardites who join in our quest to raise strong and powerful girls. To our joy, nearly everyone was available to celebrate with us. I spent the week happily planning a theme (polka-dots) and congratulating myself on the relative ease with which I was able to procure dotted table cloths, plates, appropriate gift bag items, and the like. It was fun; just like a scavenger hunt! Both my girls had sweet polka-dotted dresses and I even discovered one I had purchased and forgotten about last year for myself. I mapped out table placement for both indoors and out, and cleaned the basement, just in case of rain.
It all started to go wrong the day before when 5pm rolled around and I finally had to accept the fact that the party favors I had ordered over a week ago were not going to arrive in time. Oh well, I had actually scoped out Plan B options and a quick run to the store would remedy that! Then, later that evening the birthday cupcakes I made oozed out of their cups and bubbled over into the oven while baking. C'est la vie! I could easily make more cupcakes the next morning and choose a more simple decorating scheme: slap a necco wafer on top rather than punch circles filled with frosting in the top. No biggie.
On the day of the party, the skies transformed from foggy to blue and sunny well before noon. I couldn't have been more optimistic. But then, a leisurely morning turned into a frantic afternoon as the banner I made refused to stay up, the entree I planned (and practiced making a week before with great success), crumbled into bits during the prep stage, and my neighbor called to ask if I was worried about the thunderstorms the newscasters had predicted for the afternoon. Meanwhile, my husband kept asking in a concerned voice, "How are you doing now that everything is falling apart?"
To make a long story short, with hands shaking, I managed to frost the last of the cupcakes 8 minutes before the first guest arrived. We had solved the entree problem with a quick trip to the market but, with time running out, I began triaging side-dishes left and right. I was about to nix the fruit salad (scooped into balls, natch!) when Lovely Laurie, one of the few people who knows me well enough to know when I am in a true crisis, offered to take on the task. Bless her.
Everything came together in the last seconds. Everything but me. My family looked great, the house was ready, the food was on the way. But I was a fright with frizzy hair and I had just glimpsed our first guest parking out front. Lovely Laurie was in the early stages of trying to convince me I didn't look too bad when I got a good look at our guest getting out of her car...wearing a most stylish hat. A HAT!!! I had a hat!!! A hat that matched my dress!!!!
My baby turned two surrounded by good friends to celebrate with, her adoring family, and a Mama with a hat to match her dress.
Isn't that all that really matters?
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