Party on, man

The morning news meteorologist let me know that Spring officially begins tomorrow (tonight) at 12:14 am, making this the final day of winter. He also said our high for today will be around 81F. What a crazy year for weather.

Saturday was St. Patrick's Day -- a fact I nearly forgot because we had so much else going on (more on that in a minute). But I did manage to get everyone dressed in a little bit of green, even if only a tiny hair bow. Tres (who apparently didn't remember the holiday from years past) was concerned / confused about why "Sir Patrick" wanted to pinch people who don't like green; eventually she came to the conclusion that evil leprechauns make him do it, so oh well. We'll all just wear the green and try not to worry about it too much. There must be a lot of things in life that seem, to a 4yo, equal parts arbitrary and vaguely menacing -- but you just have to soldier on through them (or "shoulder on through," if you're Tres) with Mom and Dad by your side.

Speaking of soldiering, I had one of my occasional bouts of premeditated lunacy on Saturday: I hosted a kids' party. For no good reason. No birthday, no milestone, no nothing. I've done this before.

*SIGH!*

Here's the problem: Uno and Dos both have lots of friends at school whom they would like to invite over to play. In theory, that sounds fine to me; what's one more kid running around? But in practice, since none of their friends live within walking distance of our house, that involves logistical planning with other kids' moms -- a task which makes my heart shrivel into a tight little fist of anxiety. I don't know why, but it does; let's just agree that I'm broken and move on. So a few times every week, Uno and/or Dos will beg to have this friend over or that friend come play. Uno will often offer to make the arrangements herself (though I know I'll still have to confirm it with the other mom, so I might as well do it all myself). I always put them off. "Not today, but maybe soon. I don't know. We'll think about it." The girls are not fooled; they know I have no intention of following up on anything. I feel increasingly harried and guilty; they feel increasingly frustrated and resentful; finally the dam bursts and I say something stupid like, "Fine, we'll throw a party! You can each invite X number of people."

Let's see, which might be more stressful and out of my comfort zone, a one-on-one playdate or a party of 10 excitable, squeally kids...? ::FOREHEAD SMACK:: (But at least with a party, you can send paper invitations with the only RSVP option an email address!)

So we had a party. Three of Uno's friends and one of Dos's (the other two couldn't make it) came over Saturday evening and we all made Shrinky-Dinks (technically Grafix Shrink Film; I have come to like that brand better) and ate pizza and "watched a movie" (which is code for "went upstairs to the girls' rooms instead to play loud / wild / messy games of Hide & Seek"). I think everyone had fun. I hope so, because I'm not hosting another party again for a long time.

Ugh. I don't know why I do these things to myself, but I have definitely recognized a pattern in my life of making grand gestures to overcome trivial anxieties:

As a teenager, I simultaneously craved and feared the looming independence of college. I wanted to get away from the town I'd lived in nearly all my life, so what did I do? Apply to a school a few hours away, or maybe in a neighboring state? Nope. I applied to just one place: A liberal arts college for women 2,000 miles away in a state I'd never visited and where I knew not a single soul. And then I got accepted, so I went. It scared the crap out of me -- I don't know if I could possibly get more out of my comfort zone than that! -- but I soldiered on through (and had an amazing experience).

After college, I moved back home to live with family (first my parents, and then my sister and her family) while I figured out the next steps of my life. Ultimately, I decided I needed to strike out on my own. I had a great job at the time; I could have simply found my own apartment in the same or a nearby town and continued living the good life -- but no. I quit my job, loaded up all my worldly belongings and moved to a large Midwestern city to live with my BFF (so at least I knew someone that time!) (and that turned out wonderfully, too).

I am a timid little mouse whose life is punctuated by erratic bursts of derring-do. (Perhaps it doesn't take a lot of daring for most people to host a children's party, but for me it counts!) I wish I could be more consistently ... uh, normal, LOL -- for my kids' sake, at least -- rather than someone who slides from one extreme to the other, but I yam what I yam. I always have been.

Oh well. My girls will need something to talk to their therapists about when they get older. ;-)


~RCH~