She invited the same five girls as last year. Four of them poured into the house at 3pm on Saturday afternoon.
We’re really lucky that Alyssa has made friends with really sweet girls but damn, those five twelve year olds (okay, wait, one is still only eleven and won’t be twelve until next September, she’s a smarty-pants who went to kindergarten at four years old and was doing long division in first grade, ahem) can be so, so loud!
And yet, Tom managed to fall asleep at 8:15 that night, not even waking up when the girls came downstairs three times between 8:30 and eleven for snacks.
When the girls first got there Alyssa herded them all outside, where they all got soaking wet. We’re having a bit of a thaw around here in the Arctic and since it was forty degrees, they needed to get some fresh air. Alas, forty degrees means the snow was melting and while one would think that twelve year olds (and one eleven year old) would have the sense to stay out of the water, one would be wrong.
They were in their pajamas by 4pm; and hungry at 4:15.
They ate candy at 4:15 (it was a gift from one of the guests, Alyssa was happy to share it with them.) They ate pizza at 6:00 and cake at 6:45.
They ate popcorn and Nerds at 7:30 and Rice Krispie treats at 8:15. Then they all had a pickle at 9:00.
I only had to go in and tell them to settle down three times between 11pm and 1:30am. The last time I told them to settle, I said to Alyssa, “Please just don’t wake up your dad.”
So yes, Saturday night was not all that restful even after the last ‘check in’ I did.
When the last girl was picked up at 10:15 Sunday morning, Alyssa and I headed to my mom’s to pick up Olivia, who’d had her very own slumber party with Jaxon the night before.
When we got home an hour later, Olivia collapsed on the couch and sighed, “It’s good to be home.”
Ha! Okay. It’s exhausting to be away from home for all of 21 hours and have your Gram take care of all your needs when you’re gone.
She beckoned me to the couch and requested some fruit chews, her water from the fridge and perhaps some apple slices if I were so inclined as to cut them.
After many, many hours of this, I lamented last night, “I’m kind of rethinking the whole kid thing.”
I was joking, of course and everyone laughed. I adore my children but, you know, they’re a lot of work and some Sunday evenings, when the weekend has been fully unrestful, I fondly remember my twenties, when I lived in a small apartment in Chicago, ALONE, going entire weekends not speaking to anyone other than the cashier at the corner grocery store.
But then one of my sweet girls will put her head in my shoulder, whisper that she loves me and those memories of those years in Chicago become clearer and…lonelier. I wouldn’t change this life I have now for anything; not even the slumber parties.
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