A Long Boring Account of M's Birthday Party

OK folks, this one is for the grandmothers and aunts. It's straight reportage for the already emotionally invested. The rest of you are welcome to read along, but expect neither insight nor stylistic acumen. All that will be back tomorrow.

Remember last year when we had to cancel M's birthday because she was sick, and then we had to reschedule it on Memorial Day weekend when most people couldn't come? Well, it seemed like we were headed for the second birthday debacle in a row when it started to pour at 1:15. Luckily, like last year, everything worked out just fine. Uproariously, in fact.

We got the whole gang this time. Nine 3rd grade girls, one 3rd grade boy, one boy who can't be called third grade because he is homeschooled but is essentially of the same ilk, and E and her best friend A who were a bit shell-shocked by the whole thing. Oh, and I can't forget the world's cutest toddler who spent most of the party trying to go places she wasn't supposed to--like up the front stairs or on top of a picture some big kids were trying to draw.

The noise, my god, the noise.

M wanted to have the party at home, which was good, and as we were casting around for an activity, we came up with a scavenger hunt, which is what the big girls on the block used to do for their birthdays, but now they are too big. Very exciting for M to be as big as they used to be. I planned the scavenger hunt, making M completely crazy by refusing to tell her anything about it. I put them in carefully socially-balanced groups with a G Street girl in each group. I did let M consult on the groups and she was very judicious: she only asked that I switch the difficult girl I'd put in her group for the other difficult girl, which was fine.

At 2 they started arriving and squealing on the porch. By then it was down to a drizzle and I asked them if they wanted to play an outside game and there was a general shriek of approbation. We sent the neighbors home to get all their raincoats and umbrellas, and we collected all of ours. Everyone who wanted to be was covered, but really it was just a drizzle and they were fine.

When everyone had arrived, I gathered them in the living room and my, how easily those old camp counselor skills return. I whispered that I wouldn't be able to explain the game to them till they were quiet, and eventually they realized that I was talking and quieted down. Then I asked if they wanted to do a scavenger hunt, and the room exploded in glee. Phew. I explained the rules (boundaries were G Street from the corner to S's house, when they rang a doorbell they had to politely ask if people were willing to help them, they could only get three things from each house, and they had to include everyone in the group). They had to name their group, make up a song or skit about their group, draw a picture of their group, and collect a variety of objects including ten different leaves, a lemon or lime, a diaper, a dog treat, a stick longer than your arm, and a bunch more.

Off they went, and we grownups and the toddler were left in peace. Except then I realized that I had no prizes, so I quickly cut long strips of paper and wrote "M's Birthday Scavenger Hunt 5/22/05" on one side to use as ribbons. They terrorized the neighborhood for about 45 minutes, and then came back to exhibit their loot. I gave lots of prizes, writing them on the other side of my ribbons: First Team Finished, Best Baby (the aforementioned toddler), Best Lemon (the biggest), Best Lime (the only), Best Diaper (the biggest again--size counted in this game), Best Picture (the only group that used the markers I'd carefully assembled for them--the others just used pencil), etc. I carefully balanced my ribbons so that each group received approximately the same number because I'm like that. It was funny, though, how anxious and competitive some of them got. There was lots more squealing, or perhaps I should call it screeching.

Then we had cake, ice cream, and lemonade, limeade, and pink lemonade (they were 3 for $4.00 at the supermarket). Then we had some squealing, screeching, and chasing. Then we had presents: mainly books, journals, address books, stationery, and Red State Capital City Suburb mementos. When we finished the presents, it was 3:55 and I shooed them outside where they screeched some more, chased each other, received their party favors (jars of bubbles that M, E and I had decorated with stickers), blew bubbles, and were scooped up by their respective parents. Phew.

M was wiped out, so I took her to the cafe for some peace and quiet. She ate a bagel and read some of her new books. I read the Sunday Times. S stayed home and made dinner while E made an art project. The End.

P.S. Really it was one of our most successful birthday parties ever.