I am in pre-birthday party hell.
LD will be four this Sunday and I am so deeply unprepared, it's not funny.
Each year on the anniversary of his birth, we have managed to mark the occasion in some way.
We had the obligatory first birthday party. I plotted and planned it for months ahead only to have all my super-efficiency foiled by an eleventh hour cake disaster.
For his second birthday, I avoided party pressures by getting the hell out of town. A weekend away at the beach with friends – albeit in winter – was the balm to my party-scarred soul.
Sufficiently renewed after the fiasco of birthday number one and feeling ready to step back into the fray, LD's third birthday was my masterpiece. The theme, invites, food and cake, the execution was, I've got to say, fucking perfection.
After climbing birthday party Everest, I should have known this year would be arse. Peaking too soon leaves so very far to fall.
So here we are, mere days away from 'the' day and up my sleeve, I have exactly NOTHING. Friends are texting me, "So, any plans for LD's party?" to which I am texting back, "Yes. Keep Sunday free for…..something…"
In general, I believe the blame for this must all lay squarely with the hell that is moving house. Along with a missing teacup and the mystery bookshelf shelf, I have yet to unpack my organisational skills and possibly, my give-a-fuckedness.
The new place is feeling more and more like home but it ain't ready for company yet. And frankly, neither am I. The idea of pulling together a last minute party just flys in the face of my need to meticulously pre-plan and scribe detailed lists. Chaos invites trouble with a captial "A" – I refuse to be so ridiculous as to have an anxiety attack over a four-year-olds birthday party. I definitely plan to take a Valium on the day….but that's just for shits and giggles.
So…..I'm thinking play centre.
Here are the selling points;
1. Not at my house
2. Better shit to play with than at my house
3. No cooking
4. No cleaning
5. Inclement weather no obstacle to party fun times
6. Kids love the shit out of play centres
The glaring downside;
Sunday at play centre = fuckload of kids all going ape shit in a relatively confined space.
What to do, what to do?
Bottom line: as much as I hate crowds of children, it seems preferable to two or more at my place.
I think we have a winner.