This weekend saw the event of the year – a joint birthday party for my daughters, who turned three and one this month.
The party was great fun and they loved it, but, to sum up my feelings in a brief rhetorical letter:
Dear Children’s Parties,
You completely knacker me out.
Yours with aching bones and burning feet,
Expression and Confession
The price of a happy party is obviously to end the day feeling like you’ve run a marathon with a fridge strapped to your back.
But it’s definitely worth it. Our joint party for our two girls involved:
- Two home-made cakes – ballerina and giraffe-themed (okay, I only made the giraffe cake but it did seem to take me three days.
- A lovely party tea for twenty-five children, which superseded an interesting trip to the supermarket the previous day with three year old and one year old in tow (we got told off twice by strangers…don’t ask).
- Hand-filled loot bags full of musical toys and various treats.
- A bouncy castle. Speaks for itself. Bouncy castle = pre-school child heaven.
- A great dancing session for the children by Miss Laura of Baby Ballet fame.
- Thirty pink and purple balloons, picked up from a shop earlier that day, pre-filled and stuffed into my Yaris.
- Lots of setting up/tidying up, coffee and tea making for the adults and general rushing around.
- A marathon present opening session, once at home.
You know it’s been a good children’s party when the children start falling over each other and having the odd tiredness-induced tantrum near the end.
It was a magical day – but I’m glad it’s only once a year!