Monday, February 16, 2009

Party Mom

Maia didn't get a birthday party because all of the kids she invited had been exposed to whooping cough in the days before the party and their parents didn't want to pass it on. Then hockey and the holidays intervened and Maia's party was put off until last weekend, when she had a Valentine's Day/birthday party. We were going to decorate heart-shaped cookies instead of having a cake and play a couple games. I bought some pre-made cookie dough and a bunch of party supplies the day before.

Here is how the day of the party went:

7:30 a.m. I get up to start cleaning and baking the cookies.

8:25 I put cookies on my cookie sheet and after removing them from the oven I find that the cookies have swelled -- no, not swelled, expanded -- by about a third, smooshing into each other and rendering themselves useless thusly: I compensate by using the cookie-cutter on the cookies and trimming off the extra. Fortunately, this works, but makes a lot of waste and stresses me out more than it should.

8:38 a.m. While compiling the foam shapes I had bought the day before for decorating bags, I find that almost half of them aren't self-adhesive. This means we will have to deal with regular white glue, because I have no glue-sticks sitting around.

10:15 a.m. Guest's mom calls and says he will not be at the party because he is throwing up.

11:28 a.m. The bathroom sink backs up for no apparent reason other than to get on my case.

1:05 p.m. The first guest arrives, five minutes late; the party commences.

1:37 p.m. Bag-decorating threatens to get out of hand as John shows the party-goers how to throw handfuls of foam shapes for fun. Attendees are visibly impressed as I bring an appropriate level of smackdown on John.

1:45 p.m. First game begins.

2 p.m. Second game begins.

2:15 p.m. Maia opens presents. The coolest present, a hand-knit scarf from a 7-year-old (!), is not appreciated as much as the gift-giver thinks it should be. She tries to put it on Maia, who makes it clear she doesn't want the scarf on at this time. Power struggle ensues.

2:20 p.m. Final guest arrives, and it is time to frost and decorate the cookies.

2:40 p.m. Full of highly refined sugar and carnauba wax, the guests all go down to Maia's room to play. Note: Maia's room is approximately 7 feet wide and 10 feet long. There are six girls in there.

2:45 p.m. I receive a report that there is a group of girls barricading themselves in John's messy bedroom and not letting the other girls in.

2:46 p.m. I find the girls barricaded in John's room and John queuing up "Welcome to the Jungle" on his CD player. This boggles me.

3:06 p.m. First guest leaves, 6 minutes late.

3:15 p.m. Last guest leaves, 15 minutes late.

3:45 p.m. The floor is swept, trash is thrown away or recycled, and calm returns. After a restorative cup of coffee, the day continues.


  1. Re: 2:46 p.m.

    So he's barricading himself in his room with some ladies and cueing up some sweet tunes? Watch out. I think his high school years will cause you a lot of anxiety.

  2. Two questions.
    What happened between 2:46 and 3:06?
    Why did you clean house before the party?

  3. Mach1 -- I noes. Seriously. I told Matt I had had a vision into John's future and it wasn't pretty.

    Mom -- I once again brought the smackdown in an impressive fashion, and cleared out his room. I have no idea why I cleaned before the party, although aside from the thrown foam shapes, it really wasn't too messy.

  4. I can't even tell you how much I love those cookies.

  5. Aren't those just a nightmare? They're trying to take over my kitchen.

  6. They do look a bit menacing, like they might have world domination on their minds.