By Kim Blakely, mama to two
Mojo just turned 5.
I don’t know why, but I’ve been as nervous at Mojo’s birthday parties as I might have been at my own.
Of course I’ve gotten to the venue a few minutes early to get everything ready. And once everything was ready my nerves jangled with every tick of the clock.
It was a combination of stage fright and insecurity, you know?
What if no one showed up? What if the moms didn’t like me so they don’t bring their kids? What if the kids didn’t like Mojo and didn’t want to come? Would Mojo be disappointed? Would I? And what if they did come, but they thought the party was lame?
It’s ridiculous, I know. I mean, it’s a party, for gosh sakes. For 5-year-olds.
I had sent out invitations with a phone number and email address for RSVPs, but so few people find/make time to do that (Is that just my experience? Do people RSVP to all of your events? There goes my insecurity again … Aaargh.).
So I worried about whether anyone would come and then people I didn’t know were coming arrived and I was happy to see them, even though I might have wished they had found the time to say they would be there … and then I realized that some of them had brought two or three of the guest child’s siblings and I started to add up the number of guests we would have in all and multiplying that by the cost per child that the venue charges for birthday parties and wondering if we would have enough pizza and enough cake and party favors and … ahem.
I was pleased, though, to suddenly realize about 10 minutes into the party that I was relaxed, and I enjoyed chatting it up with the other moms and watching the 5-year-old shenanigans.
And the most important thing was that Mojo had a great time. The girls chased the boys, the boys chased the girls. There was lots of laughter and plenty of pizza and cake and the presents made Mojo roar with joy.
But after all that, I still can’t believe I have a 5-year-old. How did that happen?
Happy birthday, Mojo. I love you.
