It had been 3 years since the twinions had a birthday party.
I wanted to be a kick arse mum who held a party every year. Delve right into the joys of baking, exceeding expectations year after year with a proud display of awesome birthday cakeness.
Then, boom! Reality happened!
I know everyone (especially the kiddliewinks) had a fantastic time at that first birthday party.
Rather than see all the wonderful things that happened that day, I (shamefully) thought about how stressful it was.
But really, did it need to be?
What do one year olds care if there was a bit of rain or that there was too much balsamic vinegar in one of the salads?
Alas, it took me 3 years to recover. Of course, I was also trying to jump over other hurdles during that time. Namely, the idiosyncrasies of being a harsh self-critic; a perfectionist.
People can shake their head in disregard and say, “Come on, Grace. Get it together. It’s just a friggin’ kids birthday party…”
But I highly doubt I’d be the first mother who hasn’t – secretly or publicly – put that pressure on themselves to make sure EVERYTHING is just RIGHT; EVERYONE is having a GRAND time.
Luckily I snapped into my senses for the twinions’ fourth. This time, because I was aware of those tension levels rising, I knew how to control it.
Well, for the most part.
I totally lost my shizz when chocolate started leaking to the bottom from the cake tins, within minutes of being shoved in the oven.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s okaaaaaaaay. It’s all part of the journey” Mr Surfer said in a New Age, hippy la-la calming voice.
You know where you can stick your “journey”.
By tomorrow, all of this will be a laugh and a great story for dinner parties, I tried to assure myself.
Hindsight, hindsight…wherefore art thou, beloved hindsight?
With restored determination, I returned to the kitchen.
After slaving away over the oven like we were starting up our own Baker’s Delight, I successfully baked FOUR round Betty Crocker Devils Food Cakes.
Anyway, both dinosaur cakes turned out awesome. You’d hope so after baking, frosting and decorating them till 3am (Thank you Mr Surfer and your creative skills).
Of course, the day turned out brilliantly.
A friend generously offered his balloon shaping skills. Kids whacking an empty Piñata to no avail provided great entertainment for us adults. (No one told me those things weren’t pre-filled!)
Proving once again twins are their own little beings, encountering experiences with their own individual reactions, when it came to standing in front of all their friends and their parents to have everyone sing Happy Birthday, K-Bear was proud as punch, soaking up the attention.
My Nunu, however, my beautiful, precious boy was a little overwhelmed. Digging his little head deeper and deeper into my chest as the singing and cheering continued, I was reminded of his unique trait to internalise.
It’s okay, I kept reassuring him. Seconds later, he was just as ecstatic as his brother as they both cut their own green dinosaur cake.
These are the intricate, delicate moments that become fundamental references in life. I think they call it perspective.
Without the meltdowns, we can’t appreciate the priceless smiles.
They happen. They’re part of the journey.
Do you have pre-birthday party meltdowns? Or are you a cool cucumber?
Joining Essentially Jess for IBOT