Summer Time

I’m all for those summer barbecues, kiddie parties at the park, and I can even get into weddings and graduations. In moderation. This weekend, we had four parties scheduled, which may be a tad too much of a good thing. We had two birthday parties (one for a 2-year-old, and one for 5-year-old and 1-year-old siblings), one college graduation party for the son of some good friends (a boy my girls adore to no end—he can juggle, need I say more?), and one barbecue with the play group families.

We kicked off the festivities with a birthday party, where my 4-year-old latched onto the 9-year-old cousin of the birthday boy and spent the entire party trying to keep up with her. From jumpy house marathons, to play-sword fights, to races around the pool and throughout the house, her long legs never stopped moving. So, I wasn’t surprised to get a good solid nap out of her. Her sister, equally exhausted, but in that over-stimulated 2-year-old way, wasn’t able to sleep. So by the end of the college graduate’s party that evening, we were verging on full-on meltdown mode.

The next morning, we had the second birthday party, where Tinkerbell made a guest appearance and did a magic show, face painting, blew bubbles, made balloon animals, and gave the kids temporary tattoos. You’ve never seen two happier girls. Both birthday parties had jumpy houses, which means that three parties into the party-a-thon weekend, both girls were covered in minor injuries: bruises, abrasions, a cut tongue (bit during all that jumping), and bodies so tired they kept falling down on the way to the car.

By the time the barbecue rolled around, even though both girls had taken short naps, I was thinking of skipping party number four. But since there wouldn’t be a jumpy house, and it meant not cooking dinner, and I really like all of our play group friends, and wanted my husband to get to know them, we decided to go after all. I’m glad we went, as a good time was had by all, but I’m glad we haven’t got any parties scheduled for next weekend.