So last month Jr turned 6.
I still can’t wrap my head around the concept.
Don’t get me wrong, he is every bit the 6 year old, all full of energy and sass and silliness, and sucking up knowledge like a brain vacuum clad in an ever-rotating sheath of superhero wear.
But still… He’s just a baby, right? I mean – he was JUST a baby. In his itty-bitty baby-wear, cozied down with me in his nursery all dozy and smushy and sweet…. He was JUST a toddler. Clinching his tiny little potato-fists as he teeteringly ran around the back yard collecting rocks and referring to himself in the not –quite-correctly pronounced 3rd person. (“Coo-Cur fill bucket with rocks, mama.” OK buddy. Andplusalso please never stop saying that.) He really was JUST my tiny little guy. And now he is an almost-1st-grader, leaving me in the dust on his two-wheeler with no training wheels needed (Hey – he beat me,) and just generally being a super big boy.
So this year when we talked about what kind of birthday party he might want, he wanted “just friends mom!”
(We compromised and had grandparents too – a decision which saves my mommy butt a bit later in this fateful tale.)
So, after closing my eyes and saying a little prayer, I sent out invites to 6 of his little buddies with the words “parents welcome to drop off, or join in the fun” included. On Purpose.
Um yeah – they ran like the freaking WIND from our lego-birthday-décor-laden house that day, people.
Straight up – I felt the breeze off their backs.
I don’t blame them a damn bit.
And anyway – it would be FINE, right? I mean come on- one kid couldn’t even come, so it was 6 boys including Jr. I had lego-themed activities to do, there was cake to be eaten, and presents to be opened… It was only 2 hours – it would fly by, and I was totally prepared. No Problem.
So each of them had 2 little lego guys and accompanying cars to assemble, and we all got together around the table so they could get started. The first set was tough for them, and I thought I was sitting pretty – PLENTY time consuming and yet entertaining for them, it seemed.
They. Got. Faster.
The second set went super fast for each of them, and suddenly we were moving into “guess how many legos are in the jar,” a good 20 minutes or so before I had hoped to. Plus, there was yelling. EVERY COMMUNICATION from 6 year old boys in a flock is apparently done at MAX volume.
The Grandmothers must have smelled my fear – both have backgrounds in education, and they swooped in, offering the cheddar bunnies and veggie tray to the kiddos and creating an on-the-fly coloring contest while I regrouped.
Cake was eaten and gifts opened in what MUST have been record time, and then we ushered everyone outside to play (and yell some more) in the back yard. It immediately started to gently rain. We did NOT immediately go in.
At the two hour mark, parents (looking relaxed and refreshed,) returned to collect their offspring, now happily attempting to build the tallest structure they could from Jr’s collection of duplo blocks.
Jr looked happy, the Grandmas looked tired, and the house looked like a nursery riot had broken out.
So I guess that = success.
But hear me now people. Believe me.
Next year? Next year we are going to the damn skating rink.