Those of you that read my first blog post will know that it was Big L’s 5th birthday party on Saturday. If you haven’t read then it I urge you to. It’s hilarious. Honest guv.
We (me and Other Mum) spent Friday getting most of the stuff ready for the party. Sainsburys shopping for supplies. Preparing the food and party bags etc. Well, I say we. Other Mum ended up doing most of the work as Little L was having none of it. I managed to wrap 30 sausage rolls in cling film. I hate cling film. It’s shit. It sticks to everything but what it’s supposed to. We did some veggie food and yaye there was a veggie. Go me!!
The best part was I spent an hour of my life I’m never getting back wrapping the pass the parcel. What was I thinking?
“How about a book?” I say
“What a lovely idea” she says
We buy a book. A fairly large book. I didn’t think this through. I was intending on doing 30 layers with a lolly between each layer so all the kids get one.
“They’ll get bored. How about doing two parcels” suggests Other Mum
After some more thought
“Why don’t you do one parcel then give whoever doesn’t get to open a layer a lolly”
She’s my hero! I’m all for cutting corners wherever possible. Other Mum provides me with several rolls of paper. I only have Christmas paper. You know. The stuff you buy every year in the sales then forget you bought it and buy more. Prick!
I get home and tip out the lollies. I look at them. Shit. This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. Plus I hate wrapping. Why the fuck did I offer to do this? Oh yes, because Other Mum has done practically everything else and I’ve got the guilts. I want wine but I’m breastfeeding and I’m not sure I’ll stop at one. Plus Vince is out with work and I’m in sole charge of the two Ls. And I have to bathe Big L as it’s his party tomorrow. Great! Eventually I manage to wrap 13 layers. I give up at 13. I’ve had enough. Plus the parcel is getting to the size that an average child will find difficult to pick up, let alone pass.
The party was pretty good actually. Most of the kids behaved. There are always one or two that are a pain in the arse but that’s to be expected. I think we coped well with the assistance of family and friends. The kids enjoyed themselves which is the main thing.
Big L had a bit of a blip after musical statues. He didn’t win. I’m not sure if that was the problem or whether he was overwhelmed but he became a cling on after that and missed out on loads of games. Even the lolly I gave him as bribery didn’t work. I clearly need to up my game in the bribery stakes now he’s (nearly) 5
A friend of ours did the entertainment. He’s a DJ and does kids parties (as well as weddings etc etc). He’s great! He gets everyone involved which is nice. Unless it’s you that’s involved. I managed to stay under the radar until musical squares. For the less informed it’s basically musical chairs but with foam squares on the floor (health and safety gone mad!). It was my job to remove said squares. Which was pretty hard since the little buggers were glued to the squares instead of running around them, cheats the lot of them! Then came the political problem of removing the other birthday boy from a square and he was called out. Oops! He took it in his stride though and a medal cheered him up a bit.
Clearing up was fairly painless. Until I saw the pile of presents. Shit. The. Bed. There were a lot of them. So many in fact that a friend took pity on us and took them home for us. No room in our boot. Not with a pushchair and changing bag that is actually bigger than the baby itself.
Now. Luca’s birthday is not until Tuesday. We have a huge pile of presents and a very small house. And a small boy with the biggest brown eyes and the thickest longest lashes that he’s batting in my general direction. Fuck it! Let him open the presents. It’d be cruel to make him wait until Tuesday, right?
Several sets of Lego, board games, books, cars (the list goes on) later and we’ve written down what each child got in the relevant card so we can send thank you cards (if I get round to it. The intention is there. The will may well not be). He was a very lucky boy and I feel like a tight arse for the presents I’ve bought in the past.
Now it’s Saturday evening and I’m knackered. Vince is walking around singing the Terminator theme tune wielding a fucking Nerf gun. Little L is grumbling in his bouncer and Big L is running away from Terminator wittering on about zombies. The perfect end to the perfect day.
Until the next time.