Hey! Hi! Guess what? Did you know it’s only four days until my daughter’s 8th birthday!? I sure did! And yesterday it was only five days until her birthday! And on Christmas Day it was only 194 days until her birthday!
Naturally we are having a party, which she started planning at 7:30 pm the night of her 7th birthday.
Which was 364 days until her birthday!
It’s going to be the best party ever, despite the intense yearlong negotiations we’ve had to endure. Because while I live firmly entrenched in reality, my daughter exists in a sparkly imaginary world that is apparently in an entirely different tax bracket.
For example, I wanted the theme to be A Child’s Birthday Party. She wanted it to be Space Unicorn Mermaid Glitter Cannon Extravaganza. Despite her fierce protests, I had to nix the glitter cannon (since I would like to still be on speaking terms with the other parents after the party) but we did manage to compromise on Space Unicorn Mermaid. And while a discerning eye might notice that most of the decorations are only Space-themed, my fingers are crossed that I hear back from the farm about the herd of rideable ponies wearing fake horns in time for Saturday. (Sadly, however, we weren’t able to secure the 100,000 gallon see-through swimming pool she wanted to rent and transport to the party),
The location discussions ended up getting quite heated. Especially when she wouldn’t budge on the quite sizable guest list. But after some intense research, I discovered that every water park, amusement park, and entertainment center are all closed on her birthday, if you can believe it. She then suggested having it at her Memaw’s house but it turns out none of the guests are going to be able to make the 840 mile trip to suburban Ohio. So we eventually agreed on using our local neighborhood park.
Speaking of the guest list, almost everyone she invited RSVP’d yes, which is great. The only ones we haven’t heard back from yet are that girl she played with one time when we were on vacation in Cape Cod and that kid from her parkour class but she doesn’t know his name and Taylor Swift. Although this is partly my fault since I was unable to track down their respective phone numbers and send them my very fancy mass text invitation:
“Someday I hope to have my shit together enough to send out actual invitations, but today is not that day. So, hey! Mae’s birthday party is Saturday from 2-4 pm at the park.”
The good news is that after many, many significant changes, I now have my daughter’s final menu choices for her big day.
Except there will be more menu changes.
THERE ARE ALWAYS MORE MENU CHANGES.
(Although I can now confirm that the six-tiered mint-chocolate chip ice cream M&M rainbow cake with real working miniature solar system cake topper that she originally wanted has been canceled. Turns out the bakery is closed that day as well, if you can believe it).
As for the itinerary…
Oh, what’s that? You didn’t know a non-wealthy child’s birthday party typically had an itinerary? Don’t feel bad. I didn’t either until very recently.
I took a photo of it as proof that I am only slightly exaggerating about this whole thing.
At least her gift list was reasonable. Although I am getting slightly concerned that she waits outside on the porch every day for the Amazon delivery driver. And then hugs the boxes. And the driver.
And that she made me this:
It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
And at least next year her birthday should be slightly easier to plan. She’s thinking of having a destination birthday party when she turns 9. Right now she’s leaning towards Paris, France.
But despite all the stress and the constant negotiations and the stress, I cannot wait to celebrate my little girl in a few days. It makes me so happy to see that my husband and I are raising a strong young female who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.
I can’t wait to meet the person she’s going to grow up to be.
I just have to survive her childhood first.
Chick Writes Stuff 