Freeeeeeeeedoooommmmmmm....

It's been what feels like for-ever since my last post, but I have great news;

Party season is over.


I have dragged myself, battered, bruised and aching to the party of what seems like almost every child within a 5 mile radius over the last 2 months, and I can report the following:

1. Gambado's parties suck. I have run out of paracetomol, and patience (see previous party posting). Never again - until the next time.

2. Parties in a restaurant basement are never, repeat NEVER a good idea. Something about the lack of natural light turns children into extras from some low-budget horror movie.

3. Children's entertainers are great if you are a 4 year-old. If you are an adult they are just too plain creepy.

4. Party bags are a boom business (way to go, Frog in the Field). At least 50% of the parties we went to featured a party bag worth more than the present we took. On the plus side that could mean we get invited to fewer parties next year. On the minus side even my delightful son reached the stage where by the end of our rollercoaster 'season', he was asking for the 'gift' when we left. God, the shame.

5. Even the loveliest mums will surprise you and put nuts in their child's birthday cake. Sorry to go on, but when they have to comfort a crying child who can't eat the pirate cake that 39 other children are tucking into, they might think again. Next time I might just send Boy #1 in their direction and let them explain why it was necessary to put walnuts in there... (seethe, seethe)

6. Face painting rocks. Until you reach home with a child looking like an extra in the chimney sweep scene in Mary Poppins, who refuses to wash what's left of the tiger off, as of course his sheets will do that for him...(not going to happen - cue large amount of shouting and crying in the bath, and soaked mum).

7. The children of Kensington and Chelsea will only eat cake with a fork. WITH A FORK!!!! What the fork is going on? I seem to remember shoving it down with both hands at that age. Clearly we are spending far too much on their edikashun...

8. There will only ever be one man at these parties (apart from the creepy entertainer, that is). Poor Dad, asking himself what he did to deserve this (let alone pay for it), socialising gamely with the embattled mums who are all desperate for any male conversation since their own husbands are far too busy at work (on a week day), at work (on the weekends), or recovering from being at work (on the weekend) to make it to any of the parties. My beloved made it to one party. Boy #1's party, to be precise. He has ground to make up...

9. Boy #2 starts nursery in January. Based on my (probably rubbish) calculations, that means that from next year on we will have around 24 - 30 birthday parties to go to per year for probably the next 5 or six years. If I ever needed a reason not have more kids, there it is.


And now I must go. Because I have just spend the weekend with my in-laws, and delightful as they are, I am in desperate need of quiet, a schedule, healthy food, and privacy. (Clearly a post for another time...)