My son is sat on the laundry basket and is refusing to go to bed…
I’m not sure how we’re going to move him, but I’m pretty sure I know why he’s there.
This weekend has been all kinds of intense. It’s daylight savings, yes. Losing an hour is weird and and kids don’t get the memo. But, we’ve also tied it in with two days of four-year-old birthday celebrations. Yesterday was a party in the park – and today we had the grandparents visiting. All the sugar and excitement is enough to make anyone want to sleep in the laundry.
The local park played venue for the party. There were a bunch of kids – I’m not sure how many – partly because they moved so fast and partly because it was also open to the general public and it all got a bit confusing. We had all the usual stuff – cake, presents, party bags, songs… oh and coffee in a flask for the adults (it was 10am).
I knew the piece of 10mm dowel rod Adlai had begged me to buy when we were looking for paint in Homebase would come in handy. In its short time in our home it’s been the sword of many a superhero but, on this Saturday morning, the rod was playing the role of piñata hitter. It’s surprising how vulnerable I felt with the dowel rod clenched in the sticky fists of a four-year-old. Having hung the pink dinosaur piñata in a tree far enough away from the assembled parents and general public not to attract unwanted attention – I tried to form an orderly line. This didn’t really work out, instead I settled for a semi-orderly huddle. Then, I could hold them back no longer and the stick passed from sticky hand to sticky hand. The brave pink dinosaur put up a good fight and somehow managed to dodge many blows of the youngest kids. Eventually though, she fell, spilling a belly of chocolate and toys. Suitable anarchy ensued as children grabbed indiscriminately at whatever was on the ground. When the crowd cleared, all that remained of the pinata were wisps of pink paper stuck in the grass. It’s a scene I won’t forget quickly.
The rest of the party seemed remarkably tame in comparison to the piñata incident. There was mostly playing in the park and a token bit of cake, and Faith made a point not to provide too many sugary snacks as a service to parents. We’ve all been there when our kids come home from a birthday party hopped up on chocolate and sweets, carrying party bags full of chocolate and sweets. Soon enough, every small person wandered off with an appropriate parent.
We’ve continued to celebrate for the rest of the weekend with more cake, presents and general festivities, with an ever-increasing tone of meltdowns. It’s all gone very well, but I think we’ve reached our quota of fun. So you see, that is why I’m now off to fish a boy out of the laundry and put him in a bed.
