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The Offending Document

Well, it has finally happened.  My sweet little baby girl has gone and grown up, somehow much sooner than I expected, and in such subtle ways that I really hadn’t grasped how fast she’s been maturing.  Yeah, ok, enough with the melodrama, right?

A few weeks ago, FF picked up K from school; just another ordinary day.  Except that the parents of one of K’s schoolmates handed them a small white envelope.  FF gathered from the kids’ general comments that it was a birthday party invitation.  So what was his manly, parentally-responsible plan of action?  To bring it home unopened and hand it over to me with a slight look of fear and distaste.  Clearly, he was telling me that figuring out birthday party stuff was squarely in my parental domain. 

So, I gathered up my courage (cough) and K and I opened it, to indeed find an invitation to her school friend’s birthday party. I just didn’t expect her to be getting invited to non-family type parties so soon and I was completely baffled at what to do.  I know that sounds stupid, and believe me, I felt pretty stupid but being the clueless mom, I had no idea how to respond.  The idea of taking her to a virtual stranger’s house, and dropping her off all by herself for several hours was completely paralyzing.  I didn’t know how to approach the parents to find out more information without sounding a) paranoid b) unhinged and/or c) totally socially inept.  Not even K2 would be able to attend with K, due to a conflicting vacation schedule.  Nor had I even met the parents or school friend!   FF and Uncle Jeff (K2’s dad) had passing acquaintance with the kid and parents from general school pickup/drop-off time but still.

After avoiding the situation for nearly two weeks, I got my courage up and emailed the birthday girl’s mom,  and then started to feel a little better about the whole thing, but still generally clueless.  I tried not to sound as lost as I felt when I asked whether I should stay for the party or just drop off K.   She graciously invited us all to come to the party or to drop off the kiddo, whichever way was most comfortable for all concerned parties.  I asked K about it and she unequivocally wanted to attend the party sans parents.  (sniff)  I felt very useless and unloved, and yet somehow a little relieved at not having to figure out the socially awkward situation of attending a party where you have absolutely no acquaintance with the honoree, her parents, siblings, or friends.  Some things are just easier when you are a kid!

I couldn’t think how to approach buying a gift for a child of whom I had no direct personal knowledge.  I puzzled over finding an appropriate gift that wouldn’t a) weird out the parents, b) be messy or obnoxious, c) not fit,  or d) generally not be something the child wouldn’t like.   K and I settled on some non-messy art supplies tied to the princess theme indicated in the party invitation.  Kind of cheesy I guess, but it got the job done.

So on the big day, we pulled out a pretty sundress, unearthed a semi-matching pair of shorts to wear underneath in case of heavy duty outside-climbing type play, fixed her hair nicely, and made the 45 minute drive over to the birthday girl’s house.  They live in a beautiful gated community, so just getting in the doorway so to speak was complicated and raised my anxiety level.  But we made it to the house, to be greeted by her friend, the parents, and a frantically excited old-ish golden retriever.  K is a little nervous about dogs so her immediate response was to shrink back and hide behind us.  But after she got through the doorway, handed over the present to her friend, and got a chance to cautiously pet/meet the dog, she ran off with not so much as a backward glance to my pathetic pleas for a bye-bye hug and kiss.  See what I mean about that growing up thing?  It sucks!

Anyway, she had a fabulous time, played and romped and ate all kinds of sugary stuff.  They had rented a bouncy castle, so my jumping-bean daughter had the time of her life, basically.  My own mother keeps talking about things like “giving her wings” and such, but I think next time maybe I’d rather just get my fingernails pulled out.  Why does all this stuff have to be so confusing?