I’m going to sleep well tonight.

Another mountain peak scaled! J’s birthday party is officially over and done with, except for the thank-you cards, but the hard work is done, my share’s been paid, and the party girl is happy.

Though she wasn’t earlier. For the first half of her party, she just lay around watching everyone else doing daft things (care of the incredibly expensive entertainers), and people kept commenting how pale and glum she looked, but to be honest I was just glad she was there.

Yesterday afternoon, after bringing a friend home to play, J walked in and announced that the sun had given her a headache and she felt sick. Then she promptly was sick. Thankfully my girl knows of my can’t do/won’t do policy, and had the sense to keep her mouth closed until she reached the bathroom. Then my mom walked in with S, and was kind enough to take over for me.

By seven last night the poor girl had asked to go to bed and I was wondering if I would be hosting a party without my partygirl. And worrying whether she’d let me take her cake for her friends to eat ;o).

Because she so loved her cake. And I guess the other kids did too, as the girls all begged for the ponies and flowers to eat (it was supposed to be My Little Pony theme).


It all went very well. Considering. By that I mean it was containable and no one ended up having their mother called, whether it be for behaviour or hospitalization. But blimey I’m tired!

Dread to imagine how the entertainers are feeling. They jumped about, blew whistles, shouted, danced and organised games from the moment they arrived (that was twenty minutes before the party began) until after the kids left. And they made me realise lots of people are happy to pay lots of money for these guys! They were good, they earned their money. But if people are willing to pay that sort of money for their kid’s party, then they might not find a character birthday cake, at twice a shop price, so bad. After all, not everyone is as tight as me!

Between that, and one of the mom’s asking if I’d do her daughter’s cake next month (though it’ll only be at cost, which will at last make me add them all), it’s got me thinking that some people might really be willing to pay me to do this.

But I have to get a bit better first. The friend’s birthday cake will help, and there’s a morning’s sugarcraft course on at the local college in a couple of months. And then maybe… with a bit of practice, and no problems from the Public Health people, I could do this.

But. Isn’t there always a bloody but?! I shall have to get quicker (as well as better!) as this cake took me about seven hours all told, and between that and the ingredients, I might be ending up paying people to take them!

Hoping that minor detail will be overcome with some more practice, and I’m planning on smuggling some plasticine into the house, so I can play at making things like ponies in the hope the sugarpaste sculptures will become easier (and better looking! And in case you're wondering, the things supporting the ponies heads were just there untill we got it to the venue.)

But I’ve sidetracked, this was supposed to be about J’s party. Bad mommy, as J would say. Yes, she tells me when I’m not a good mommy, which happens mostly when I say no to the third chocolate biscuit. But today I’ve been a good mommy, and said she could eat the entire front pony, though I was much relieved she only managed the forelegs (but I’m still a good mommy in her eyes! Ha!)

Anyways back to the party. Did I say I’m exhausted? My feet feel like they’ve been Christmas shopping. In fact I’m so tired I’ve just written this sentence three times and had to delete each for not making sense.

To finish, J was happy and felt fine, a fool boy volunteered to be cream pied, and after the other two moms had thought we were finished tidying and left, I discovered some little sweetheart had wallpapered the toilets with toilet paper (almost makes sense when I write it!) and stuffed paper towels down a loo. Aren’t I glad I we had this party in my Church’s Hall and there was no skipping away pretending I didn't know? But not to worry, an hour later it was all done, and J was sitting in an avalanche of strewn wrapping paper and wondering what was for dinner.

Did I mention I’m tired? I’m not doing rugby tomorrow, I’m on strike and deserve a lie in. Bad Mommy. Goodnight.