James blows out that fifth candle!
I've thrown many birthday parties in my day, but I'm far from a pro. More like an old dog who's willing to learn new tricks. The last party in our family, for 5-year-old James, taught me more than any other.
DO have a theme. James' was all about rockets and space.
DON'T sweat it when you've exhausted all your planned games 20 minutes into your 90-minute shindig. Your guests are too busy running around like crazy to even notice. (The same way they acted during the games, come to think of it . . . )
DO think on your feet. "Ring around the rosies," always a hit in the preschool set, can be adapted to any theme. "Ring around the sunshine, ring around the sunshine; planets, planets, we all fall down!"
DON'T attempt a group game that uses only one balloon. The kids will want one each. Make that one for each hand. And if you have blown up balloons and set them aside for use later, they will find them all.
DO draw from what you already have around the house. Improvise. Tear through James' bookcase for "Mooncake," a cute little gem by Frank Asch about a bear who builds a rocket because he wants to go to the moon and see what it tastes like. Ah-hah! This will be perfect!
DON'T let the season's worst snow storm deter you. So you made a rocket pinata to do outside on the patio (planned days ago when it was sunny and mild)? Use the new snow to your advantage. Read the book to the now surprisingly attentive party guests. Build up the idea of all of us dressing in our space suits and going to the moon (i.e. outside). The bear fell asleep during countdown and woke up mid-hibernation. What did he think was the moon? The snow! But we know better, don't we, kids?
DON'T underestimate how long it takes seven children to sort out 14 boots, one jacket, seven coats (someone dressed in layers) and 12 socks -- my child would be the sockless one.
DO rely on previous kitten-herding training.
DO whack that pinata with relish, and do so yourself, when it becomes obvious these lightweights aren't making a dent.
DON'T fret that the party fell short of what you planned. Your birthday boy had a great time, and that's all that matters.
Ben when was close in age to James in the photo. He had suffered a doozy of a split lip the day before, and needed stitches. But still, he was smiling. Another good lesson.
This last tip was especially important to me, for this birthday party was the most disorganized, crazy one I've ever thrown. It was also the day after my brother died. I was cutting an empty milk carton into a space helmet when the phone call came from my dad with the devastating news. (Ask me how many helmets I completed. None.)As Jeff and I numbly gathered our family to drive to my folks', I thought, "What am I going to do about this party tomorrow?" Age 5 is the magical time in our family to have your first friend party. James was super excited. As sad, as deflated, as utterly despondent as I felt, I couldn't let him down. He didn't understand all this. What was I going to do?
Obviously, I went ahead with it. I know some of my friends thought I was crazy for doing so, yet I'm glad I swallowed up my own sadness long enough to play hostess. I learned far more than birthday party lessons that day.
DO let people help you. I have a wonderful friend who, after dropping off her sons to the party, slipped unnoticed into my kitchen and cleaned up the cake and frosting bowls abandoned the night before with all the other dishes. She cooked lunch and helped make up for all of my unmet preparations. She came back after the party, too -- silently, yet lovingly cleaning my house (a more thorough scouring than it's ever had!) while I answered the phone and greeted visitors. Thank you, Emily!
DO look beyond yourself in your grief. Doing a party for James was incredibly soothing for me, even if I did break down in delayed tears after it was done. I will remember this, to find a way to serve someone else whenever I feel so low.
DO remember the brown-eyed boy you mourn whenever you hug your own brown-eyed boy. Reflect on how Ben loved his own birthday parties.
DO grasp on to the happy moments in the midst of your sorrow.
DO marvel at the heart's capacity for both.
3 comments:
Bless your heart, Jennifer! I still can't believe you did that party all for your little boy. When he's bigger James will realize the love you have for him to not break a little boy's heart while you endure your own grief. Jacob, by the way, had an absolute blast and talked about the party all day long. So things must have gone better than you thought! And we had the same experience with a pinata. Little kids love them, but they're not that tough when it comes to breaking them open!
I admire you so much for carrying on. I had a ballet student whose dad died suddenly. She came to ballet the next day with an aunt who explained the family was trying to keep the kids' routine normal. As difficult as it was to host a party in your grief, it would have been more heartbreaking to grieve while letting down little James. You are amazing.
What an amazing person you are Jenni. Truely! I can't imagine having to do what you did for James going through the emotions and stress of your brother passing away. It's so nice to see that there is a way to find the positive amidst the horrible, totally rotten, no good times. (isn't that a shell silverstein line?...i'm no good at writing...I should read your blogs every day for inspiration!). That's another thing that I've loved now that you have a blog. I LOVE your writing! You have a way with words that I haven't seen in a long time...and I read A LOT of blogs and facebook entries. I hope you know that we've been thinking and praying for you and your family. Please feel free to call, email or blog anytime you need to vent, talk, or just chat about nothing. Thanks for being you!
Post a Comment