I think it hit me about 2 hours before Ava's 7th birthday party that I had accepted RSVPs from 14 little girls plus 2 of my own bringing the grand total to 16 little girls here at my house in the middle of January (we live in the mid-west and a January party outside is out of the question). Sixteen little girls all painting in my kitchen and playroom. I needed xanax...I've never actually had a xanax but I'm sure if I ever really needed one it would have been at that moment 2 hours before the party. I started having flashbacks of Ava's 5 year old birthday party where no one would dance! It was a dance party, imagine my distress. To calm myself I popped a handful of pinata candy and did a little self talk, how bad could 2 hours possibly be?
All that fretting. And for not. It was fun. Yeah, I swear it was fun. I know there are many of you who are giving me the hairy eyeball right now and saying "Right, this is some wacko uber helicopter mom who volunteers 16 times a week at the school, makes sure the kids eat 18 servings of veggies a day and speaks in a kind voice ALL the time like that weirdo mom with 18 kids on tv who never loses her cool. Nope, I swear it's just me, Perrin, and I didn't sell any girl scout cookies this year, not one damn cookie. Then I had to make the cookie walk of shame to the cookie mom, who somewhat passively aggressively told me that Ava would not technically be counted in the final counts so that her lack of numbers would not affect all the hard working kids in the troop. (Oh honey, it will take a little more that that to offend me sugar.)
Here is little miss immediately after swiping her finger across the bottom of the cake to get a finger full of icing. Due to not having any of that aformentioned xanax, I yelled.
She doesn't look as if she carrying the brunt of emotional scaring yet does she?
Here is a part of the posse painting their paper mache letters. They look so serious.
Probably the best moment of the whole day happened when Ava's friend's "other mother", who used to be her father, but after a good bit of surgical intervention is now the daddie'um'sort'of announced that she would like to stay to watch the party. Oh, ok then...they are 7. If you stay you help. To which she readily agreed and was a huge help supervising painting and dishing out cake and ice cream with my other 2 girl friends whom I had previously wrangled into helping with the party. We had to slap our friend who accidently played "If I were a boy", by Beyonce on the stereo during the party. You might think this quite hilarious. I would too if I hadn't been in charge of 16 little girls at the time. Did I mention 16?
Ahh, these are the things of memories.
I shall leave you with Ava's beloved Pixos...her absolutely favorite prize of the day. Kept her busy for 2 solid hours after the party. If you don't have them run right out and get them.
How will we ever top a painting with Beyonce party supervised by none other than the transgender community? Who says the midwest is boring.