Love

Even from very early on in the girl's lives, love is the example I use to prove that things you don't see exist.  I sit here today, on the big day of love thinking how much it impacts our lives.  Of course this feeling actually comes from yesterday, not today.  Yesterday was a birthday party day.  Not some random kid, my kid.  That meant I had to plan it.  Anyone who knows me knows I am not a planner.  Every year about a month before each of their birthdays I get this big knot in my stomach just knowing, shit, I am in charge of this thing happening.  Phase 1, I don't even worry about something going wrong with the party, I worry about it not actually happening because I am a slacker.  The first few years I did the parties at the house and actually made the cakes.  I am not a baker.  After I made the poor decision to create castle towers out of angel food cake (tip:  angel food cake is structurally unsound, do not build anything out of it), I decided Target makes an excellent half sheet cake for $29.99 and I do not have to stay up until 4am cleaning a destroyed kitchen.  Target has also eliminated the despair of watching things slide in an unnatural way off a cake two hours before the party and trying to make quick toothpick repairs.  But why did I even attempt something I have no skills at? Love.

Love makes us do crazy things.  When I was young, love made me take up mountain bike riding to impress John.  I never stopped being terrified of even the smallest hills.  And to be fair to him, he has tolerated a fair number of museums which are not his thing because I love them.  The desire to be with the people we love is stronger than the dislike for certain activities.

This is certainly true of all the unpleasant things that accompany parenthood.  Diapers honestly never bothered me that much, other than again, I am not a planner and was occasionally caught ill prepared simply because I did not properly forecast the amount of shit that could come out of one 10 pound baby during a 3 hour outing.  No, my gross out thing is saliva.  Kids go through this whole phase when they try to kiss you with their mouths wide open.  They often cover your mouth, eyelids, ears, everything with giant gapping mouths filled with drool.  It is honestly at least number two or three on the most disgusting things I have ever experienced list.  Even writing about it I can feel my gag reflexes gearing up. BUT, because I love my children and knew they were trying in their very, very young way to show me affection, I tolerated it and tried not to grimace.  Love gets us out of our comfort zone.

I try to remember this with every party I plan.  I love my children.  This is getting my out of my comfort zone.  All those self help books say do things that scare you.  This is a silly thing to be scared of but I just did party number 9 for Helen and yep, all the same old dread is still there.  In my Hall of Shame I was 6 months late having a party for Lauren once and just combined it with Helen's.  The people at Pump it Up told me they had never seen a half cake before.  The second birthday moment to go on in the Hall of Shame happened yesterday.  I actually sent invites for Helen's class out to them yesterday.  I will tell you the return on 20 invites sent out the day of a party, 1.  I was actually extremely impressed with the one.  Fortunately the return on other invites sent out a week ahead of time is about 14/20 so it wasn't a total disaster.

So for the planning challenged, once Phase 1 is complete and I have actually reserved the place, gotten a lame email out to people in way of an invite, Phase 2 begins.  The "Oh crap, now I have to do things" phase.  Things like show up to the party with pizza ordered, all supplies, something to light candles with, candles, plates, drinks.  This is where having parties at your house during the early years comes in handy.  You can usually scrumage around your kitchen and find things that you forgot you would need as they happen.  This is impossible at a natatorium.  Which happens to be where the party was yesterday.  I have been spoiled in recent years by going to the places where everything is done for you.  You just show up and a little army of teenagers cuts your cake, feeds the kids, pours drinks, cleans up and and runs the time table with military precision.  The natatorium supply's a room for one hour.  It is up to the person hosting the party to have some party planning skills.  Of course the person in charge yesterday happened to be in the water playing chase with 14 kids instead of getting a cooler out of the car, getting the cake from behind the front desk, tipping the pizza guy.  I. am. a. slacker.  Things would be a complete disaster if I did not have such good friends who bail my ass out when I am in charge.  They took care of everything.  Seriously.  When I got out of the water I was dripping wet corralling kids to get them in the room.  When I walked in the room, everything was in there and set up.  I am crazy lucky.

Thanks to great kids and fabulous parents party number 9 worked out.  It is hard, it will always be hard.  I reveal to everyone how imperfect I am.   But, I am willing to get it all wrong because I love my kids so much.

Love is beautiful because it makes you grow.  It makes you vulnerable.  It inspires artists to paint, writers to write, musicians to muse.  It is the gift of reaching inside and doing things we never thought possible.  I always use love as my example of what exists in the unseen world because it is so powerful.