Over the last few weeks, I’ve been wracked with mom guilt.
Despite my total paralyzing fear of throwing a kids birthday party, I had every intention of doing just that for Thalia. It would be the first one, really, since she was a baby. The bane of a July birthday in New York is that no one is in town. But this year? Aha! We would have it at the end of June! See how smart I am?
All it would take is a little advanced planning.
Which became not so much advanced planning.
Which became, how the hell did it end up being the end of June already?
It’s true, I really can’t do it all.
We had brainstormed everything from an Alice in Wonderland tea party to a bowling party. And Thalia had the best time just imagining what kind of party she’d have and whether it would be everyone in her glass or just girls, and what she’d wear, and how it would play out–and honestly, I had the best time imagining it along with her.
And after all that, I had to sit Thalia down and confess that (mommy f’d up) I didn’t think we could have a big party because of how busy we’ve been and how we just cant manage to find a weekend that works. I told her that while we’re in Vermont next week, we would do something special with the small group of friends we’ll be with. I asked her whether she thought that was okay.
I prepared for tears. I prepared for The Great Whine.
“That’s okay Mommy” she said with enthusiasm. “That will be fun! We can do something special that day.”
“Of course honey, anything you want! What would you like to do?”
“Like…maybe we can go to the cake store. And pick out a cake!”
I imagine that Lucky Charms might factor into the “special occasion” equation too.
Next year may be different. Next year Thalia may want the big party with the friends and the presents and the dresses and the invitations and maybe the bowling. But for right now, God I love my almost six-year old.