Birthday Bonanza
I'm picking up mid-story here, so be sure to read part one of the Birthday saga...
I made it to the grocery. The weather turned while I was out, and the skies opened up. Though the bag boy and I got the car loaded before the storm rolled in, driving conditions on the way home were horrible. Why do I mention this? It put a serious crimp in my plans to finish the rocking chair.
10:30 Friday night saw me standing in my garage holding a can of spray paint, swaying on my feet with exhaustion. My husband gently took the can and ordered me to bed. I was a little teary eyed at what I percieved to be abject mommy failure! After a few mild protests, I succumbed to my better half and headed up the stairs to sweet oblivion.
7:30 Saturday morning came soon enough. I fed my boy and put him back to bed, then, with the help of my hubby, tackled the list of things that still needed doing. We ironed, decorated, cooked and did a little last minute cleaning.
10:00 My father and his family, who were supposed to arrive at 9:30 in order to get a little extra visiting time in, call. They are running late and will now be arriving closer to 11:30. I'm a little annoyed, and a little relieved. This gives me more time to finish everything that needs finishing.
10:15 The in-laws arrive with the balloons and cake. Shortly there after one of my best friends appears with some extra ice (our ice maker is not working.) I put her to work placing balloons artistically about the corners, and making a last minute bow for the (unfinished) rocking chair.
11:00 Our first guest arrives. I'm still in my grubby clothes, with no make-up and unfinished hair. I greet the guest, grab the baby and run upstairs to feed him and get pretty.
We had 23 guests, three of them babies from Will's playgroup. The party was a smashing success, and ran over by a good thirty minutes. I had too much food and was gently teased for calling it a "light lunch" on the invitation. In my defense, I consider chicken salad to be "light," after all, it isn't as if I were serving lasagne!
The baby ate his cake, once I took the icing off of it, so all of the muffins paid off. I still can't believe the little guy is a year old now, but I'm glad he had such a great party.
I made it to the grocery. The weather turned while I was out, and the skies opened up. Though the bag boy and I got the car loaded before the storm rolled in, driving conditions on the way home were horrible. Why do I mention this? It put a serious crimp in my plans to finish the rocking chair.
10:30 Friday night saw me standing in my garage holding a can of spray paint, swaying on my feet with exhaustion. My husband gently took the can and ordered me to bed. I was a little teary eyed at what I percieved to be abject mommy failure! After a few mild protests, I succumbed to my better half and headed up the stairs to sweet oblivion.
7:30 Saturday morning came soon enough. I fed my boy and put him back to bed, then, with the help of my hubby, tackled the list of things that still needed doing. We ironed, decorated, cooked and did a little last minute cleaning.
10:00 My father and his family, who were supposed to arrive at 9:30 in order to get a little extra visiting time in, call. They are running late and will now be arriving closer to 11:30. I'm a little annoyed, and a little relieved. This gives me more time to finish everything that needs finishing.
10:15 The in-laws arrive with the balloons and cake. Shortly there after one of my best friends appears with some extra ice (our ice maker is not working.) I put her to work placing balloons artistically about the corners, and making a last minute bow for the (unfinished) rocking chair.
11:00 Our first guest arrives. I'm still in my grubby clothes, with no make-up and unfinished hair. I greet the guest, grab the baby and run upstairs to feed him and get pretty.
We had 23 guests, three of them babies from Will's playgroup. The party was a smashing success, and ran over by a good thirty minutes. I had too much food and was gently teased for calling it a "light lunch" on the invitation. In my defense, I consider chicken salad to be "light," after all, it isn't as if I were serving lasagne!
The baby ate his cake, once I took the icing off of it, so all of the muffins paid off. I still can't believe the little guy is a year old now, but I'm glad he had such a great party.
posted by Talia @ 5:53 PM
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