Iz celebrated her 4th birthday last Tuesday. With a Tuesday birthday, her birth"day" morphed into a birth"week" ending with a party on Saturday. I think we sang "Happy Birthday" to her more times than her 4 years would normally allow if you take into account an early celebration in VT, 3 jolly wishes on the day itself, and then at her party on Saturday. By the end of it all, I was exhausted.
Party planning is never easy for me. Reading Lisa Belkin's blog on the NYT website last week, I think I must fall into the category of "alpha mom." Fortunately, my alpha mom streak is not all encompassing like some of the other mom blogs that I've read. I am not disgusted that the school systems around here are not more environmentally friendly. My "green" streak largely extends to composting, buying organic milk and now biodegradable garbage bags. Unlike Lisa's alpha moms I don't feel the need to hand out baby organic carrots at Halloween and am not overly concerned that my kids are addicted to fruit-flavored snacks and Sprout. (Apparently Noggin is passe these days.) But when it comes to the holidays and events like birthdays it's like some alien creature overtakes me. Lucky for my neighbors, the holiday alien runs more in line with Martha Stewart than crazy inflatable characters on my front lawn. Still, even though Ryan, my husband, kindly says that he really enjoys "entertaining" with me, I think he must be secretly relieved when the crepe paper comes down and the dishes are safely in the dishwasher.
I knew I was in trouble with this particular birthday party when I had a nightmare at the end of September that all of Iz's friends arrived at our house and I wasn't there because I had neglected until then to buy anything for the party. In the dream, I arrived home two hours later with only a handful of treats and a group of people disgusted and leaving. After waking up in a cold sweat, I immediately broke out the laptop and got to work on the Oriental Trading website. The theme of this year's party was "cooking with Iz." I ordered aprons; we made chef's hats; I bought more colored crystal sugar than should be allowed by law; and I baked and baked and baked. We had cupcakes at school, brownies for the Halloween party at school, a cupcake-shaped cake for the main event, and individual cupcakes that the kids decorated as a party favor. I even came up with kitchen-themed games when the weather proved too foul to have them run some of their extra energy off outside. And, being all at once, a catholic, a girl, and from NJ, I complained the entire week going into and of the birthday celebrations. I scrubbed toilets, put away toys, and acted dramatic as I mixed the last batch of cupcakes at 10 PM Friday night. I fretted about what to feed the moms (we're still not doing drop off parties yet), what to do with all the extra cupcakes, and whether or not Iz should be allowed to open her presents in front of her friends. Last year, that proved to be a big mistake since as soon as the gifts were dispensed she asked me very loudly when everyone was going home so she could get on with playing with her new loot.
And so the party went off. The kids were vaguely interested in decorating their aprons, had little use for the chef's hats, tore through making lunch (the cooking part), but ended up being hungry when their small piece of sandwich wasn't enough. We had a few breakdowns when the girls rushed Iz and Lot's room and playroom with Iz in particular freaking out after a "friend" took a treasured necklace. The single biggest hit-shocker!!- was the colored crystal sugar which got summarily dumped all over a dozen cupcakes to very dramatic effect. I have another mom friend to thank for that idea. No honestly, I do thank her. After the crepe paper came down, I asked Iz somewhat worriedly if she had had a good time. (Something I've inherited from my mom along with the crazy holiday gene is the lingering paranoia that crazy holiday doesn't quite cut the mustard.) Iz, very solemnly, looked at me and said, "It was fun, Mommy, but next year, let's have it out. I don't like people going through my stuff."
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