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ninanevermore.
.
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Sweet Pea is turning 6 in a couple of weeks. He wants a party. After all, all kids get parties when they have a birthday. Because all kids' moms know how to throw them.
Except for my son's mom. I am the exception to the rule.
I blame my own mother. She did not believe in big blowout parties for children. She was a child of the Great Depression, and had no use for excess of any kind, having grown up without it. It was my curse to be born as her mid-life accident. All of my friends had baby-boomer parents, and baby boomers were into excess, big time. Baby boomer parents had never gone to bed hungry and never had a Christmas where their parents were so poor that the kids were lucky if they got hard candy in their stocking, much less toys of any kind. My parents grew up going without. Knowing from experience that a kid can survive without a lot of fuss around a birthday, they didn't bother. We only got a little fuss, which was probably more than they'd gotten as kids.
The only kid I knew who had birthdays more non-eventful than the ones in my house was the little Jehovah's Witness girl down the street, whose parents believed that birthdays were sinful. To make up for it, she got presents and cards and all kinds of attention whenever she got sick, which seemed to me like a good way to turn a kid into a hypochondriac, but that's another subject entirely.
My husband and I have always celebrated birthdays the way my own family did: a family dinner, followed by cake, and a few gifts. Usually, there were grandparents involved, but that was the extent of the party guests. In other words, my small son has gotten royally screwed every year on his birthday. He has set out to change this.
"I want a party with other kids," he told me the other day.
"Other kids? A party?" I was dismayed. Of course he would want this. He's a kid. This is what kids want.
"Yes."
For any other child, this is would not be an unreasonable request. Like me, though, my son is a middle-aged accident. Jeff and I don't get out much and don't have a much of a circle of friends. In other words I don't know any other kids, at least not local ones. I've got cousins with kids, but none of them live close by.
Oh, my.
It would help if I had attended more of my cousin's kid's birthdays, but on most of those occasions I have not wanted to make the drive. They are in no debt to me in this regard. $#%! Maybe, I figured, I could appeal to their sense pity. If it works, I will be in debt to them and be making a lot more trips out of town.
I logged onto the Chuck E. Cheese website, where it turns out you can book a party on line without having to interact with an annoying location manager or ditzy teen-aged girl who thought a job at the Chuckter's would be more fun than at a burger joint, and less likely to cause acne. Sweet. A better mother would have known this before her child was anywhere near the age of 6.
I registered for 6 kids and 12 adults. That's not a lot, but I figured I would aim low so as not to junk myself. I can always add or delete from the list as the day nears.
Then I sent out Evites to every I knew with a child and an email address, with this pathetic message, hoping to drum up some pity:
I know some people with kids with email addresses I don't know, too. I will mail invitations to them.
Six kids. I just need to round up six kids. Only 6. How hard could this be? There are kids wherever you look. I thought of his former babysitter. She has 2 daughters.
"What about Miss Kris and Karly and Madison?"
"Miss Kris can come, but I don't like Karly and Madison. They're too bossy."
"I think if Miss Kris comes, she is going to want to bring Karly and Madison."
"Okay, but sometimes she leaves them at home," he said hopefully, "She says they aren't as good as I am at stores."
I thought of the discipline reports his teachers have been sending home from school. They would be surprised, no doubt, to hear that Sweet Pea is the well behaved, good child in public places. Just not at school.
Speaking of school, his classmates from school are not an option for this event: Sweet Pea has not learned the name of a single child at his school. I know this is not normal and the Team Meeting is next Monday (for which parents-in-the-know have given me advice ranging from "Stay positive and just see what they have to say" to "Don't let the bastards see you cry") to discuss this and other concerns.
Whatever the diagnosis turns out to be, Sweet Pea is normal enough to want a party with other kids. So now I have to figure out how to make that happen. The lady who owns the book store I frequent has 3 kids, I think. I don't know their ages. I wonder if they are young enough to like Chuck E. Cheese?
It wouldn't hurt to ask, I suppose.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
Sweet Pea is turning 6 in a couple of weeks. He wants a party. After all, all kids get parties when they have a birthday. Because all kids' moms know how to throw them.
Except for my son's mom. I am the exception to the rule.
I blame my own mother. She did not believe in big blowout parties for children. She was a child of the Great Depression, and had no use for excess of any kind, having grown up without it. It was my curse to be born as her mid-life accident. All of my friends had baby-boomer parents, and baby boomers were into excess, big time. Baby boomer parents had never gone to bed hungry and never had a Christmas where their parents were so poor that the kids were lucky if they got hard candy in their stocking, much less toys of any kind. My parents grew up going without. Knowing from experience that a kid can survive without a lot of fuss around a birthday, they didn't bother. We only got a little fuss, which was probably more than they'd gotten as kids.
The only kid I knew who had birthdays more non-eventful than the ones in my house was the little Jehovah's Witness girl down the street, whose parents believed that birthdays were sinful. To make up for it, she got presents and cards and all kinds of attention whenever she got sick, which seemed to me like a good way to turn a kid into a hypochondriac, but that's another subject entirely.
My husband and I have always celebrated birthdays the way my own family did: a family dinner, followed by cake, and a few gifts. Usually, there were grandparents involved, but that was the extent of the party guests. In other words, my small son has gotten royally screwed every year on his birthday. He has set out to change this.
"I want a party with other kids," he told me the other day.
"Other kids? A party?" I was dismayed. Of course he would want this. He's a kid. This is what kids want.
"Yes."
For any other child, this is would not be an unreasonable request. Like me, though, my son is a middle-aged accident. Jeff and I don't get out much and don't have a much of a circle of friends. In other words I don't know any other kids, at least not local ones. I've got cousins with kids, but none of them live close by.
Oh, my.
It would help if I had attended more of my cousin's kid's birthdays, but on most of those occasions I have not wanted to make the drive. They are in no debt to me in this regard. $#%! Maybe, I figured, I could appeal to their sense pity. If it works, I will be in debt to them and be making a lot more trips out of town.
I logged onto the Chuck E. Cheese website, where it turns out you can book a party on line without having to interact with an annoying location manager or ditzy teen-aged girl who thought a job at the Chuckter's would be more fun than at a burger joint, and less likely to cause acne. Sweet. A better mother would have known this before her child was anywhere near the age of 6.
I registered for 6 kids and 12 adults. That's not a lot, but I figured I would aim low so as not to junk myself. I can always add or delete from the list as the day nears.
Then I sent out Evites to every I knew with a child and an email address, with this pathetic message, hoping to drum up some pity:
Sweet Pea is Turning 6!
Instead of spending is birthday with his reclusive parents, he has requested a "party, with other kids."
I have no idea how to even do that. So I called my friend Chuck E. Cheese, who is supposed to be an expert at this kind of thing.
I'll probably still mess this up, but I'm at least trying.
There will be pizza. And cake. And games, which will probably be a lot more enjoyable than the pizza.
Please RSVP so I know if I will need more (or less) pizza.
I know some people with kids with email addresses I don't know, too. I will mail invitations to them.
Six kids. I just need to round up six kids. Only 6. How hard could this be? There are kids wherever you look. I thought of his former babysitter. She has 2 daughters.
"What about Miss Kris and Karly and Madison?"
"Miss Kris can come, but I don't like Karly and Madison. They're too bossy."
"I think if Miss Kris comes, she is going to want to bring Karly and Madison."
"Okay, but sometimes she leaves them at home," he said hopefully, "She says they aren't as good as I am at stores."
I thought of the discipline reports his teachers have been sending home from school. They would be surprised, no doubt, to hear that Sweet Pea is the well behaved, good child in public places. Just not at school.
Speaking of school, his classmates from school are not an option for this event: Sweet Pea has not learned the name of a single child at his school. I know this is not normal and the Team Meeting is next Monday (for which parents-in-the-know have given me advice ranging from "Stay positive and just see what they have to say" to "Don't let the bastards see you cry") to discuss this and other concerns.
Whatever the diagnosis turns out to be, Sweet Pea is normal enough to want a party with other kids. So now I have to figure out how to make that happen. The lady who owns the book store I frequent has 3 kids, I think. I don't know their ages. I wonder if they are young enough to like Chuck E. Cheese?
It wouldn't hurt to ask, I suppose.
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no subject
Date: 2010-09-28 03:38 am (UTC)I did have one very memorable childhood birthday, it was when I turned 5 and my parents threw me a surprise party. That one turned out really well, but I dont recall a lot of my classmates being there, mostly neighborhood kids and my cousins.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-29 09:29 pm (UTC)