Today I'm reporting to you live from my living room. All limbs have been accounted for, toys organized, paper wreckage pushed in the general direction of the trashcan. If it weren't for the trace amount of frosting and tell-tale signs of cupcake dismemberment, an untrained eye would never know, less than twenty-four hours ago, Armageddon touched down, kissed our home lightly on the forehead, and exited as quickly as it came. But we survived it. We survived the first and last birthday party we will ever throw for our children.
I suppose I could go into the hairy, scary details of yesterday's
OK.....Ben Folds should be a good choice...now then. Where was I? Ahh, yes...my list.
Do: Choose icing that falls somewhere in the "white" variety. (See also: cheesecake, vanilla, french vanilla, or whipped cream toppings.)
Don't: Choose icing that's red, pink, or the purple that'll match the "Barney" bow in your kid's hair. It's damn cute until you're scrubbing it out of your couch cushions. An object of contempt, Barney will no longer be your kid's best friend, but a giant, purple dingo that needs to be brought down with a net and a trident.
Do: Have a trash bag ready for the paper storm that will ensue once present-opening commences. As unholy amounts of dead trees will be flying at your face, that plastic bag will be your only defense. Little Betty may want shove that balled-up piece of tissue paper in your X Box....better to have somewhere else to stash it instead.
Don't: Disregard the prior "do". If you, my Readers, ignore me on this one, don't blow-up my phone, in the dead of night, with emergency calls about only being able to see your spouse's fingers beneath the rubble. He's most likely fine, but you should probably grab a shovel or call the fire dept stat....they don't mind it. I, on the other hand, may tell you to leave him and just "move on with your life".
Do: Take lots of pictures.
Don't: Attempt to take "mental pictures" because you're too busy removing children from the curtains. Assign someone to take token images of your children blowing out candles, being sung to, etc. Having these images makes it easier, later on in life, to convince them you used to be " a really great parent"...
Do: Feed your guests.
Don't: Be surprised to find pieces of pizza have formed a life bond with your counter tops. Just grab that crow bar you've been saving for a special occasion, and get to work.
Do: Provide beverages for adults and children.
Don't: Let on where you keep the "good stuff". Adult fist-fights over who gets the last shot of Tequila can scar children for life. Wait until everyone's left, lock the door and nurse that bottle of Don Julio like it's a small, baby goat.
Husband and I made it through, and managed to get the split-level back to some semblance of order. Butch and Sundance had a wonderful time and are now the proud owners of all sorts of new and exciting presents. Now if I can just remember where I hid that Tequila...
Until Next Time Readers!