Party #66

As I prepared this afternoon for Rough Stuff's birthday party, I asked myself why I just wasn't feeling any stress about it. Not feeling rushed or stressed can mean two things- either I've totally got it together and the event is so well-planned that there is nothing to stress about, or I've totally forgotten some huge detail and the crap is about to hit the fan. It is usually the latter. I said to myself "Girlfriend, which is it this time? What have you done, or not done?  Think, Lady. THINK!"  

And then something came to me. I said "Girl, you've done so many parties, you're a pro. What are you worried about? You could pull a party out of your behind on an hour notice. Quit stressing."

As I hung upside down, drying my curls with a diffuser (I do most of my serious thinking in this position) I did some quick calculating. This particular birthday party is number 66 for us. SIXTY-SIX. I've planned 66 birthday parties for my children. This does not include trick-or-treating parties, cookie-exchanges, sleepovers, or classroom parties. Just birthday parties.

I've not actually hosted too many classroom parties. I think I'm on a room mother black list. They stopped asking me to host after that big 5th grade Halloween party in the gym when the firemen showed up and evacuated the whole elementary school. We mothers were not actually pointing fingers. We weren't going to openly admit to bringing the fog machine that set off the alarms. Then the cute firemen called the all clear and my kid entered the gym with a throng of 5th graders and screeched "it was YOUR fog machine, MOM!" No more room parties for me.

But birthday parties- no problem. People still send their kids to my house for birthday parties. Some even send them back more than once.

Birthday party #66 was a gummy bear party. A what? Yeah. Gummy bears. How do you do that?

Well...

You start by making gummy bear-printed  bookmarks with little gummy bear-shaped glass beads. 

And you fill little baggies with gummy bears so you can send your guests home with additional sugar. Have your kid help with the 'thank-you' tags because you know you will never get thank you cards sent. Heck, you couldn't even get the invitations mailed out, Girlfriend. Wait...am I talking to myself again? Ahem. 

Then, you mesmerize them with sugar. 

After visiting 2 stores trying to track down a bear-shaped cookie cutter, you give up on the bear-shaped sandwiches and feed them pizza rolls. This will disturb you more than them. If you're super talented like we are, you will mix up the cheese and pepperoni pizza rolls on the pans and terrorize your vegetarian children. (I'm sorry, girls. Your dad did it.)

Add a craft. We chose to fill bear-shaped honey bottles with colored sand because we figured our kitchen could use a healthy dose of sand. 

We wrapped the whole thing up with a dance and karaoke session to the gummy bear song. I will spare you the details. If you do not know the gummy bear song, DO NOT GOOGLE IT. Don't do it. You will never, ever, get it out of your head. 

I will be hearing that song in my sleep. 

I'm a gummy bear. Yes I'm a gummy bear.

I'm a yummy, tummy, funny, lucky, gummy bear. 

And I'm a party pro. Yes I'm a party pro. 

I can make a party happen on the go.     

Yes, I've gone a little left. Hey, after 66 birthday parties, I've earned it.