Current mood:
shocked***BOOK COVER BRIEF***
There were 19 children and 21 adults present at this party for a total of 40 guests. Now that’s a large, LARGE amount of people for a three year old’s birthday. However, how lucky for me that there was an average of a little bit more than 1 adult per child. Well, I’m here to tell you that just because the math works out that way doesn’t mean that it is true. Besides me, 10 adults helped with the party. Only FIVE of those adults that helped even brought children. Which means that six adults with children sat ON THEIR ASSES. There were four uninvited children and I’ll bet you can not guess which adults brought them. If you said anyone from the Stupid Six group, you are CORRECT! The ten adults and I did everything from helping run the games; cook, serve, and clean the food mess; keep children from killing themselves; and try to keep some of the children from pillaging the loot from present time. The ten adults that helped did far, far, far more than they ever needed to do... as you will see as you read on.
***Begin story***
I decided to throw Chloe a Double Dare party. Some of you may remember the Double Dare show on Nickelodeon with our favorite host, Marc Summers. I themed the party in bright orange and neon green. Just so you know... that apparently isn’t a popular color combo. Start shopping early if you are as dumb as me and decide to throw this party. The day before the party, I did the house cleaning thing so that I could spend the party DAY focusing on setting up the obstacle course, cooking, decorating, cake baking, AND (heaven forbid) spending time with Chloe as her party was on her legit birthday. Well, something horrible happened to my pregnant sister-in-law, Debra, and she ended up in the hospital the night before the party. On party day, I went to get Debra’s mother to relieve my brother, Ian, from his night-long shift at the hospital and I took their two kids to stay with me. Also, I sat with Ian for awhile and talked about stuff... he was pretty damn stressed and even more tired, if possible. I get home five hours before the party and have no food, no decorations, no cake made, and no obstacle course. Plus, I now have five children. What to do? What to do? I call my sister from across the street. She, unfortunately, can’t come over until the roofers are done with her house. Meanwhile, I start cooking. I start gather decorations. I start planning out the obstacle course to be built later. I start worrying about this damn cake I’d planned to make (it was mighty impressive). I realize that I’m going to have to start dropping items off my list (ie - 8 layer dark chocolate and white cake with slime icing). I call around to several bakeries, as does my sister. We are told that we not only can’t get a decorated cake (I JUST wanted splats of orange and green slime looking crap on it... not even words), but that they didn’t have ANY cakes that weren’t iced that I could take and do myself. Also, ALLLLL the bakers in the entire Kanawha Valley quit baking AND WENT HOME at around 1pm. Yep, each and every one of them. So, Margaret decided that we should get a stupid pre-decorated cake and scrape off the decorations and redo it. At first, I said HELL NO. But, as I realized it was that or nothing, I changed my mind. So, when Margo came over... that’s what we did. Can you say GHETTO? We also get the food table, obstacle course and yard party-ready.
So, guests arrive in between 5pm and 5:30. As the guests arrive, I’m noting that there are four children and one adult I did NOT invite. Three of those children and that one adult were not invited FOR A REASON. The other child was more than welcome to tag along, I like that child and I at least got a call from the adult bringing her an hour before the party. However, as I’m on limited funds, I’d very carefully made the right amount of treat bags, plus the one obligatory extra. Not FOUR extra... ONE extra. Obviously, my three will have to do without treat bags. We all wait for the last two INVITED children before starting the Double Dare. Three of the four uninvited children are really put-out about this and start trying to run the obstacle course. The ring leader is this four year old girl (turned four LAST MONTH), whom I’ll call Attila, as she looks like a very obese EIGHT year old and only grunts... no words. I swear to you that I’m not making this up... I have witnesses. I have pictures. However, the pictures I will only post if enough people want to see. Why? I simply am not capable of posting the pictures without some really smart-ass remarks. Plus, I don’t know if my server will be able to handle the weight.
ARGH!!! See?? I can’t help myself. That comment was simply unnecessary.
I try to get their mother (you’ll be just shocked to learn that these three children are siblings) to take care of her kids. She makes some offhanded attempt... but she’s just too busy drinking all the beer. YES, I had beer at a three-year old’s party!!! First, there was only enough for a social drink or two among the adults. Second, as you’ll find out as you keep reading... I deserved the beer. I also deserved a gun to the head, but the selfish adults refused to oblige... they were too busy ignoring their bad, bad children.
I tried to physically move the 4 year old ring leader. Unfortunately, I legit was unable to do so. I’m not a weak person, ya know? I do professional wrestling... I chase after 1 to 5 children at ALL times. I do all the work around the house, regardless of how hard it will be. But I could NOT move this child. Imagine trying to push your house just a foot or two to the left. That’s about what I was trying to do. Anyway...The two long-awaited children arrive and we start the festivities. The obstacle course was a hit... but very difficult to run. Why? Well, I had the helpFUL adults each running a station of the course. Then there was me trying to keep the children in their respective teams. Plus, Attila and her clan could NOT grasp the concept of waiting your turn. I had to throw my poor, already beaten down body in front of Attila to keep her from pushing down the other kids as she tried to rush the course before her turn. At the end of the timed course, the winners got a special surprise... Which resulted in a slime fight
Now we all get to eat. I run around grilling my special hamburgers (WHY did I even take the time to make them... why didn’t I just make normal ones??) and footlongs. Plus, I had chips, hotdog chili (homemade again... wasn’t *I* an idiot?) Also, another mom brought some deviled eggs and some kind of potato casserole. Plus, I had laid out all the appropriate hotdog and hamburger toppings. Silly me had only made enough for people to enjoy socially, not for a feast. Apparently, there was a big mis-communication between me and the uninvited guests and a couple of the invited ones. Evidently, I somehow gave the impression before the party that I would be running the equivalent of a food pantry for the homeless. When the food came, most of the adults literally RUSHED the table to get food. Kids were shoved out of the way, I couldn’t get anymore food to the table, and it was one of the very few times I saw Uninvited Girl get up out of her chair... and no, it wasn’t to feed her children... just herself and her man. Thankfully, one of the moms decided to be the Food Nazi. She made all the adults take a seat and wait while SHE served the children and I got the rest of the food grilled. She then allowed the adults to come get food. By the time I got done grilling and the grilling stuff back in the house. Every last morsel of food save ONE hotdog the Food Nazi refused to give out as she was saving for me was gone. Plus, I had two parents (who helped with NOTHING) complain about there not being enough food.
Finally, it is present time. Hurricane Chloe rips into each and every one as though she were trying to destroy them.
Now, I have five children, the oldest 2 both being 7 years old. Therefore, I think I’m safe to assume that I know how to run a child’s birthday party. I think I’m also experienced enough to know that the adults should keep their children from attempting to open the presents NOR should they sit back and watch me wrestle the new toys and clothes from their children as they try to run away with them. Did ONE adult whose child/children were doing this try to stop them?? Nope. Did they all see me trying? Yep. In fact Attila rushed the table so many times, I honestly thought about trying to find a tranquilizer gun... you know, the type used for knocking out gorillas. Again, I pushed the cement wall named Attila several, several, several times to get her from literally being mere centimeters from Chloe trying to grab the gifts out of the gift bags before Chloe. Her mom never budged to help. Meanwhile, as I’m trying to enjoy my daughter opening presents on her first birthday that she realizes what is going on... Attila’s brother grabs the cake. I literally catch it as it is headed for the grass. And, sadly, this wasn’t the first time that night I saved my daughter’s birthday cake from the grass because of Attila’s brother. Lastly, it is cake time. Thank GOD it is cake time. We all sing happy birthday. We cut the cake. We serve the cake. Chloe refuses to allow us to do the birthday tradition of the first piece of cake being smooshed in her face... so we do it to her little boyfriend... by the way both of Chloe’s male friends that adore her are at the party... aaaaaawkward!!!! Or would have been had she been turning 15 or so. Chloe shows us why we celebrate her. You can tell she knows she deserves it!:
As people leave, I either hear that it was a great party or why someone thought it sucked. Of course, those that helped thought it was a great party and those that sat on their asses had at least one negative thing to say about it. The last guests left at 11:30pm... from a 3 year old's birthday party. 11:30pm. 11... 3o... P... M.
Here is where I’ll add a few interesting incidents that happened at the party:
1. Attila’s mom asks if she can use my bathtub to wash her kids. No biggie... but her children were covered... COVERED in dirt and filth long before they ever walked through my gate. But hell, you want to save YOUR soap, water, and towels and use mine??? Fine, whatever gets those kids scraped off. I know their mom wouldn’t have bathed them unless it was going to happen here. I wish I’d have taken a picture of the dirt ring that woman left in my bathtub. I would have posted it here.
2. I made Attila’s mom get up off her ass and go get her son, who was trying to get out of the gate. She gets up and grabs him and then stumbles. Now, if you or I stumble, we are going to catch ourselves, yes? She crumbles her body to the ground and lays with her FACE IN THE DIRT. I do not lie. She lays there long enough for all of us adults around her to get uncomfortable as we wait for her to get up. Her stumble was one that, unless she had a heart attack on her way down, she shouldn’t have even had a knee on the ground. I, stupidly, reach out my hand as a courtesy gesture to let her know that it is time to get up. She grabs my forearms and puts all her weight on me trying to hoist herself up. I, being approximately 100 lbs inferior to her, start to crumble down myself. Now, *I*, unlike her, do NOT want to fall to the ground. However, try as I can as I slowly go down, I cannot pry her fingers off my forearm. I could not twist my arm enough to slip out of her grip. I could do nothing but try to hoist her up. One of the mothers at the party told her husband to help me as “she’s going down too!!” He gets on the other side and we both struggle to get this woman up so that she will free me from her clutches of death. Meanwhile, her husband is sitting in his chair telling her to just get up... HE knows what's going on. I should have taken his lead. She lets go and then lifts up her arm for either the husband of my friend or me to put over my shoulders and help her to her chair. FUCK THAT!!! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice and my knees will break. Both the husband and I just stand there as though we don’t know what she wants. Her own hubby says, “Just sit down.” She then walks, quite well mind you, to her chair.
3. This woman’s son comes up to her near the end of the party and motions (he doesn’t speak) that his diaper needs changed. She tells him she’ll do it later... even though we can all smell the shit coming from this poor dude. A few moments later, someone comes out with her son and tells her to change his diaper because he now has liquid shit running down his legs. She obliges. After everyone is gone, Chloe is in the playroom with some of her new toys (I wouldn’t let her take any of them out of their boxes until the bad kids were all gone.) I realize that I smell shit in there. I make Chloe get up and she is sitting on a pile of POO!!! Not her own pile, mind you, but it were as though she had sat outside on a pile of dog poo... except it wasn’t dog poo. We all knew where the crap came from. I get her out and cleaned off and head to the playroom and clean up that pile. Guess what? There’s poo on toys too. Sure enough... I ended up throwing away two large trash bags of toys...NICE toys, not the crappy ones, because they were covered in shit. I also was on my hands and knees scrubbing 2 actual piles of poo off the floor. Later, after I think I’ve successfully removed all biohazards from my children’s playroom, I note that I STILL SMELL SHIT. Sure enough, behind one of the toy bins, there is a LARGE, and I mean LARGE pile of poo... which has now acquired two flies. I spray about ½ a bottle of carpet cleaner on the pile and the flies on the pile and clean up. Blah.
I effing hate my life. I will NEVER again invite ANYONE out of sympathy... or allow people to crash a party just because they have it hard in life. Turns out 7 times out of 10, they earned it.
For all of you stay-at-home moms out there that insist on staying home to "be with your kids" and then do so little with your kids that their behavior relects the fact they know NOTHING of how to act around people nor can they talk... GET UP OFF YOUR BUTTS AND DO SOMETHING!! Either get a job and let a professional daycare pick up your slack OR at least run after them at the occasional function they go to OR actually do what you claim to be staying home for. Preferably the latter. The stay at home mother is the central figure in a family's life. Everything good and/or bad reflects off of YOU and the effort you use.
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