It seems like...

we spend all of February celebrating

 

there are presents before breakfast

 

and cupcakes for classmates

 

Happy 6th Birthday, Henry!

(I have no idea where the time goes, but I'm sure glad I spend it with you.)

today

yesterday

 

last week

 

 

 

 

Leave it to children to ask the most profound questions from the back of the car while Mom is driving in bumper to bumper, late afternoon traffic.

Henry:  Mommy, am I white?

Me:  (long pause while I gather my thoughts and line up the right words)  Well, Henry, you are actually kind of beige and pink.  But it doesn't really matter what color your skin is.  Colors don't tell you anything about the inside of a person--and that's the part that matters.  So white, beige, pink---none of that is important.

Henry:  What?    Am I white?

Me:  (deep breath)  Well see, people aren't really white or black but their skin can be all different colors in between and everyone's color is perfect for them.

Henry:  No.   I mean am I white in swim lessons...is white my color wristband?  You know, for being a Starfish.

Me:   Yes, Henry.   You are white.

Ahh,  driving after bedtime.  Now that's more like it.

"This was the best day EVER!"

That's all I needed to hear.  It didn't matter that nine friends missed the party or that the park district's host was rather unethusiastic.  Liam had a wonderful time with his friends.  He really is an extrovert and knowing that he was the center of attention, well, he was in his element. 

We've celebrated Liam's fourth birthday three times now.  With friends, with grandpa and, on the actual day of his birth, with his brother and a batch of cupcakes.  He'll celebrate one more time with his preschool class on Wednesday and then he's back to being an average citizen.  Well, maybe not average.  He's a pretty special little guy.

Spinning around to the tune of "Happy Birthday"

 

 

Saturday

Sunday

Monday

Candy Hearts and Chocolate Kisses

With 24 classmates, you need a BIG card collector!

 

A treat from Liam's teacher

Liam's class valentines--we love Veggie Tales!

A face only a mother could love.  And I do.



We melted crayons and molded them into multicolored hearts

 

Update:  After writing yesterday's post, I received three more rsvp's!  Now there are six official guests for Liam's party.    Add in the birthday boy and his brother and we may actually make a small dent in that cake!

Next Year Will Be Different ...(I hope)

I wish I had never planned to give my boys (born 9 days short of two years apart), large birthday parties this year.  I thought I was being smart--renting a room at the park district building for two consecutive Saturdays this month.  There would be no stress surrounding the shape and size of my home.  No worrying about seating and counter space.  No concern for entertaining small, short-attention span children for two hours.  (The park district provides a host, theme and games.)  Both boys have attended many parties this school year and none have been at the homes of their classmates. 

My budget can't match that of the parents who provided a circus tent party for their six year old or the firehouse fiesta for a four year old.  Yet I wanted to provide my boys with a memorable (and yes, somewhat comparable) party now that it's their turn.

My first mistake was discounting the importance of invitations.  I purchased mine from the dollar store, copied, cut and and pasted the venue information.  A far cry from the Tiny Prints personalized photo invitations (with matching thank you notes to be sent after the party).  Why spend $60 on these?  Because dollar store invites do not solicit rsvps.   Apparently no one can come to the boys parties. 

Okay, not no one.  But nowhere near the 15-17 kids who were invited.  (The trend this year has been to invite entire preschool classes; for Henry's kindergarten, I invited all the boys.)  I don't know if it's due to the low-key park district setting or the DIY invitations but my e-mail inbox has been flooded with "regrets".

I will be lucky if five children show up at either party.  Five is actually a nice number for a casual, home birthday party.  You know, the kind I should have thrown in the first place.  But five (if that) in a party room?  Five kids playing musical chairs and Duck, Duck, Goose?  Five kids playing with the giant parachute?

I ordered custom cakes for both boys.  Henry had his heart set on a Batman cake.  He's never seen a cartoon or movie of Batman.  He's never read a comic book.  Still, if my boy wants Batman for his sixth birthday, Batman he will get.  It's the least I can do at this point.  Then there's Liam's cake.  CARS of course.  But he's already had most of the versions our bakery makes.  Finally, I found a special cake that featured Lightning's pit crew but it only comes in 1/2 sheet size.  Half sheet cake.  Five guests.  You do the math.

I'm spending the last few days before Liam's party living in fear of cold and flu germs that will decimate the tiny guest list.  Have I mentioned that even without the circus tent, gymnastics coach or firefighters, these parties are stretching my budget?  Space rental, decorations, giant cake, pizza, juice, soda, filled pinatas...times two (and in the same pay period at that!)  And this is on top of the cost of classroom treats and goodie bags which they will bring to school on their actual birthdays.  Of course, my children are worth it.  Their birthdays mean the world to me.  But if they don't have a good time at their parties and my decisions are the reason for that, being broke will just add insult to injury.

I guess this is another of those lessons learned the hard way.  Lately I feel as if I'm taking a course overload...

Down hill (fast!)

Believe it or not, February 2 saw the first significant snowfall of the winter in our neck of the woods.  Fortunately it fell on a Saturday and I was able take the boys to a big park.  As you can see, they enjoyed being pulled on the sled over the smooth surface.  We probably should have quit while we were ahead.

After returning to the parking lot to retrieve Henry's forgotten mittens in the car, the boys and I climbed the biggest hill where crowds of kids had gathered.  Trying to stay off to the side and out of the way of oncoming sledders was easier said than done.  There was no "side".  People were coming down the entire width of the hill, as their companions  on top yelled "LOOK OUT" to the climbers below.  I tried my best to steer the boys out of the path of the fastest sledders.  Henry started to cry because I was yelling at him.  (With fear for his safety, I  may have raised my voice to be heard above the mayhem.)

Somehow we managed to get to the top of the hill, just in time to turn and see a big boy get hit by a sledder and lay motionless in the snow for what seemed like an eternity.  Although he eventually got up and continued climbing, his misfortune was enough to scare all three of us.  I didn't have long to question the folly of the park district failing to mark off a climbing lane--my boys were ready to go down!  One good push and they were off.

 

What goes down, must come up.  I held my breath as the boys attempted to return to the top where I was waiting.  Sledders, snowboarders and tubers zoomed past.  There were a few close calls, but soon Henry and Liam rejoined me and were begging to go down again. 

After several more turns gliding down the hill, our luck ran out.  Climbing back to the summit, first Henry and then Liam were hit by oncoming sleds.  Liam's impact was so dramatic, one boot flew off.  He was crying pitifully by the time I reached him.   I felt so bad for putting them both, quite literally, in harm's way.

I couldn't spend too much time comforting either boy since we were still in the path of speeding children and adults.  Despite the chilly wind, Henry was having a meltdown and couldn't follow my directions.    (With fear for his safety, I  may have raised my voice to be heard above the mayhem.)

As best I could, I gathered both boys and our trusty blue sled leading them to the other side of the park.  Here the hills were about half the height of the summit we originally climbed.  Because of this, few families had gathered on these slopes.  Still, the thirty degree angle was plenty to entertain Henry who went down again and again.  Liam was quite shaken however, still crying about his now reattached boot;  he wasn't about to leave my side. 

An hour or so after arriving, we returned to our car.  The boys are not crazy about hot cocoa--they take a few sips and then abandon the cups, so instead I treated them to apres snow cheese fries.  I'm happy to report that the snack returned smiles to their faces.