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Home Is Where They Deliver
New Year New View
The Tail End
Happy, Merry, All of That
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Secret Ingredient
The First of Many
The Mood Strikes
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Party Party Party Party!
So goes the joyful cry of Elephant and Piggie in Mo Willems's I Am Invited to a Party.
I only wish I were overcome by the same liveliness as I plan one (possibly, POSSIBLY two) parties for next month. I can't believe I have friends who relish hosting events. I can't believe I have friends who host parties professionally.
Felix's birthday looms and while I was more than willing to take my standard do-as-little-as-possible approach (invite a handful of relatives over, let him choose what color frosting will adorn his cupcakes), several people have pointed out that Felix is awake this year. This is the year he asked why we didn't have a Christmas tree (many reasons, though the one that bounces to mind first has to do with the terrier and my fear he will either eat or, forgive my delicacy, lift his leg on it-- though I have been accused of not giving him enough credit for self control). The feeling was that he would notice the absence of a birthday party.
So what's my problem?
Well, Felix isn't so good at parties, a quality he shares with me, according to my mother.
I am also afraid no one will show up because we live far away from a large percentage of the potential guests.
I am afraid he will find my efforts disappointing.
I am a bit concerned that some of the party choices (venue for instance) will be unpopular with Felix's acquaintance. (I am already aware of one kid who quite adamantly does not care for the place, but I'm not sure I go for his reasoning and since he is under six, I don't think I have to.)
You may notice some similarity between my birthday party angst and my holiday greeting card nerves. I sure do. Well, it is happening now and we'll see how it goes.
Interestingly enough, I am struggling with this on another front. I have to decide if I am going to throw a party for something that I worked quite hard on.
It is just a little easier to get behind the bash for the three-year-old. Much less embarrassing and one wouldn't have to figure out what to wear and wish one's hair had finally grown back sufficiently to have it look all right. Perhaps a cocktail hat would solve that.
posted by Elise at 12:49 PM
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