It’s her party but I cried cuz I wanted to

June 10, 2010 By

I survived Hadley’s sixth birthday party. Barely.

I decided to forgo a home-based bash and rented out the local sports center in an effort to reduce my stress level.

Oh, how delusional I was.

I am no stranger to event crisis management. I worked as a publicist for many years and was in charge of a huge celebration for Salt Lake City’s symphony hall. At the last minute, the symphony pulled out due to contract disputes. You know: the guests of honor. In a pinch, I got the world-famous Mormon Tabernacle Choir to perform.

A wee bit nerve-wracking?

Hosting a party and entertaining 25 kids at an alternative venue was exponentially more ulcer-inducing.

I had rented out the gymnastics hall for an hour and then planned to take the kids to the adjacent park outside to eat cake and play games. The first glitch came immediately upon arrival when the normally vacant lawn area was flooded with beer-drinking, boom-box-toting revelers.

That was freak-out No. 1.

For those who want to keep track, just know this is the last time I will attempt to enumerate them all.

I sent my husband on a mission to find an alternate venue and he ascertained the east playground was the next best alternative.

We turned our attentions to chaperoning the kids in the gym. I’ll admit I expected them to play tag, cautiously inch across the balance beam and sing Kumbaya. What I did not anticipate: kids launching off the high bar. Scaling the rope swing to the ceiling. Attempting back flips off the vault.

If that was not enough cause for concern, the outside partiers descended upon our space to use the bathroom. A drunken woman even offered to escort one of the kids. That was just prior to the strange boy who wandered in and started playing at the party.

I think he has a future as a “Wedding Crasher.”

I was relieved when we moved outside. Jamie and his sister Lisa had transitioned the presents to the pavilion. When Lisa went back inside to grab her purse a few minutes later, the staffer at the Garrison Street Center had already locked up for the evening.

As we dealt with that fiasco, a few helpful parents and I juggled the 25 kids. When it came time to sing “Happy Birthday,” I realized I was on the wrong side of the picnic table to photograph Hadley blowing out the candles. I raced around the pavilion and as I was passing the end of the picnic table, my purse strap got caught and yanked me back.

Think My Big Fat Greek Wedding when Toula’s headset caused her demise at the travel agency.

I barely made it in time to capture one quick photograph of Hadley with the cake. I chalked it up to just another day living my Murphy’s Law. Really, the worst thing that happened was when I thought I lost one of the children.

Though when you think of it, 1 out of 25 ain’t bad.

Filed Under: birthday, Hadley

It’s Her Party But I Cried Cuz I Wanted To

June 10, 2010 By

I survived Hadley’s sixth birthday party. Barely.

I decided to forgo a home-based bash and rented out the local sports center in an effort to reduce my stress level.

Oh, how delusional I was.

I am no stranger to event crisis management. I worked as a publicist for many years and was in charge of a huge celebration for Salt Lake City’s symphony hall. At the last minute, the symphony pulled out due to contract disputes. You know: the guests of honor. In a pinch, I got the world-famous Mormon Tabernacle Choir to perform.

A wee bit nerve-wracking?

Hosting a party and entertaining 25 kids at an alternative venue was exponentially more ulcer-inducing.

I had rented out the gymnastics hall for an hour and then planned to take the kids to the adjacent park outside to eat cake and play games. The first glitch came immediately upon arrival when the normally vacant lawn area was flooded with beer-drinking, boom-box-toting revelers.

That was freak-out No. 1.

For those who want to keep track, just know this is the last time I will attempt to enumerate them all.

I sent my husband on a mission to find an alternate venue and he ascertained the east playground was the next best alternative.

We turned our attentions to chaperoning the kids in the gym. I’ll admit I expected them to play tag, cautiously inch across the balance beam and sing Kumbaya. What I did not anticipate: kids launching off the high bar. Scaling the rope swing to the ceiling. Attempting back flips off the vault.

If that was not enough cause for concern, the outside partiers descended upon our space to use the bathroom. A drunken woman even offered to escort one of the kids. That was just prior to the strange boy who wandered in and started playing at the party.

I think he has a future as a “Wedding Crasher.”

I was relieved when we moved outside. Jamie and his sister Lisa had transitioned the presents to the pavilion. When Lisa went back inside to grab her purse a few minutes later, the staffer at the Garrison Street Center had already locked up for the evening.

As we dealt with that fiasco, a few helpful parents and I juggled the 25 kids. When it came time to sing “Happy Birthday,” I realized I was on the wrong side of the picnic table to photograph Hadley blowing out the candles. I raced around the pavilion and as I was passing the end of the picnic table, my purse strap got caught and yanked me back.

Think My Big Fat Greek Wedding when Toula’s headset caused her demise at the travel agency.

I barely made it in time to capture one quick photograph of Hadley with the cake. I chalked it up to just another day living my Murphy’s Law. Really, the worst thing that happened was when I thought I lost one of the children.

Though when you think of it, 1 out of 25 ain’t bad.

Filed Under: birthday, Hadley

Birthday Wishes for a Hurricane!

May 27, 2008 By

Dearest Hurricane Hadley,

It is that time of year again – when I reflect upon this past year and divulge items that will be used as evidence in your future therapy sessions. It is difficult to believe you are finally four! The Terrible 3s certainly trumped the Terrible 2s but with them came an increased sense of awareness as you realized that you can indeed conquer the world. This subsequently means Mommy and Daddy are your servants. But as I have been trying to tell you since birth: I do not run a democracy; the Johnson household is a dictatorship through and through.

Without question, you are the ruler.

You have a bright, spirited personality and keep us laughing every single day. You are beloved by your preschool teachers and would have had an incident-free year if you had not tackled your classmate Cooper a few weeks ago, who in defence hit you with bread. This was your first look at how carbs can be dangerous.

You are an intrepid hiker and love spending time in the back-country. You are well-traveled and visited three countries last year. Hands down, your favorite destination was Mexico where you learned to swim underwater and ate ice cream every day. You often remind me to stop spending all my money at Super Target because in your mind, my obsession with the Dollar Spot is the only thing standing in the way of you and Mexico’s endless ice cream.

This was a year of firsts. You went skiing, snowshoeing, roller-skating and ice skating for the first time and you loved them all. You brazenly gave your first talk in church and also refused help saying a prayer in front of all your peers. And as you blessed evil people in the world not to litter, you also divulged all our family secrets from the pulpit (you know: the ones that are supposed to be reserved for nighttime prayers).

You are the eternal optimist. When daddy was fired from his job earlier this year, you prophetically said he would find an even better job – one where they did not throw fire at people. You still think it is shocking that he ever had to work in such conditions.

Hands down, the big struggle this year was potty training. Your greatest attributes are your sheer will and stubbornness. Unfortunately, they will bring about Mommy and Daddy’s downfall. Rest assured, I will share your potty-training horrors on your wedding day, hoping for the same collective gasp I received from The Children’s Hospital “Oh Poo” seminar attendees when I shared your exploits. Because mommies never forget.

You still can’t count to 20 but are the head of the class in preschool with your letters and words. I blame your father that you are math-challenged. One of the greatest accomplishments in his life was begging his guidance counselor to waive the math credit so he could graduate from college. I am eternally grateful for this person because 15 years later, Daddy would still be in school trying to pass math.

And this is the man in charge of our finances. Pray for us, Hadley.

Well, just make sure not to disclose our sordid secrets such as when daddy mumbles about pumpkin porn in his sleep.

XOXO
Your Humble Servant Mommy

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Filed Under: birthday, Hadley, Humor
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