So two weeks ago when I was trying to decided if I was crazy or not to invite 9 girls to my daughter's birthday party all I could think was the night was going to be pure hell for me. I was thinking by midnight I was going to turn into an annoyed mother and start yelling at the girls to go to bed out of my own need for sleep. I was thinking I was going to hate the night. I just knew that I would wake up the next morning and vow to never ever do this again ever.
Even as the first girl arrived at 6PM and the second not 10 minutes later I was thinking this is just the beginning and I have 15 hours of hell to go. Once all 10 girls were in the house - all screaming and running in socks slipping on our hardwood - I knew I was in hell. I managed to get the girls to calm down long enough to get the rules out. No running in the house. No socks on the steps to the upstairs (hardwood steps and socks = injuries). No jumping on the furniture. And every one has to be nice. And as I was walking upstairs - thanking the stars that we had a finished basement - I was still thinking of MY pain.
It wasn't until about 8:30 - after (make-your-own) pizzas and after cake - that I realized having 10 girls for a slumber party wasn't going to be painful for ME - it was going to be hard on HER. "Her" as in my daughter. As I listened upstairs to her trying to make sure everyone was having a good time at her party and making sure everyone was following the rules (not jumping on the furniture) I realized being hostess to 10 eight year olds at the young age of 8 is a lot to ask.
I ended up hanging out on the sidelines of the party. Sometimes on the step just listening and other times on the couch downstairs trying not to act like a 37 year old mother of two. I danced. I laughed. I drank water from the little mini water bottles. I snacked on pretzels. I channelled my inner 8 year old here and there so take the pressure off of baby girl. They played Avril Lavinge's GirlFriend song (clean version of course) about 60 times. They danced. Laughed. Told Stories. Had fun. We all had fun. And then around 11:30 I could tell baby girl was done. She was shushing the girls a little too much and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. I brought her up to the family room with me and settled her on to one of the couches. About 40 minutes later, just as I was getting all of the girls into their "beds," I heard a paniced "MOMMA!" come from the family room.
And then the long night began.
I went from the couch where I was going to sleep to baby girl's couch to the basement to tell the girls it was time to stop talking and go to sleep from midnight until about 1 AM. When the last girl finally gave it up, I was thankful that I could focus on baby girl. Around 5 AM she was sleeping fitfully and I was starting to dose off myself and then aroung 6 AM the girls started to make noise - I quickly put a stop to that and got them to sleep another hour.
By 7AM they were up ready to eat and that's when Mr. was called to action. He was on pancake duty. I carried baby girl up to our room and kicked Mr.'s butt out of bed. By 9:15 all of the girl's had gone home. I explained to all of the parents that baby girl had gotten sick and apologized in advance if their daughter came down with it too. The parents were great - they all basically told me not to worry about it - if they didn't get whatever this was from baby girl they'd get it from someone at school soon enough. Kudos to all of the cool moms out there!
So in summary - the party was a success until about 11:30. It's such a sad story that baby girl got sick on her first big slumber party. But the other girls had fun and I am sure it will be the talk of the class today. I think baby girl will forever blame her brother for getting her sick on her big party. And bug will go along his merry little way oblivious to this fact.
Will I ever have another slumber party this big? You bet I will! Because it's not about me - it's about her. And it's always fun to be the star for a night. It was all about her Friday night!