Like, really, really tired.
The bean celebrated his 6th birthday party with his best friend (with whom he also shares a birthday) at the end of March, and we threw them a joint party with 36 (yes, 36) kids. For three hours they ran around as if they were on fast-forward. Half of them were blurs. They screamed, they dropped stuff, they shoved chips in the toilet, they hid under tables, they asked for water and snacks and to be entertained, they asked me to help them wipe, and in the midst of the madness, I turned to my friend (and fellow mom-party-planner) and confidently declared: "This is it. I'm done."
For six years, I've pulled out all the stops. I've spent weeks consumed with birthday surprises and RSVPs and pinatas and presents and goody bags. I've spent waaaaay too much money. I may have even lost a few weeks off my own life (and gained a few too many grey hairs). I can honestly say that I don't have an ounce of mommy-guilt for putting an end to all the birthday mayhem.
Next year, it will be small affair. For once. He'll be turning 7, so he can invite his 7 closest friends, and that's it.
I love that I did everything that I did. But I'm tired. Really, really tired.
Have I mentioned I'm tired?!
Will someone show me this blog post next year when I start planning another birthday for my bean?
A full-time work-from-home mom, Jennifer Cox (our “Supermom in Training”) loves dabbling in healthy cooking, craft projects, family outings, and more, sharing with readers everything she knows about being an (almost) superhero mommy.