Biirthday Musings

It is Friday once more and although the warmth of yesterday has gone, the sunshine hiding a little behind the thickening cloud, the day still has that special feel. I do so love Friday and the promise of the weekend ahead.

I have to admit that this weekend may well not be the relaxing one I would hope for as Lucy is having a birthday sleepover. The Big Day itself is not until the eighth (next Tuesday) when she will enter the world of the teenager, but this weekend will be one of giggles and pizza and chocolate brownies; a weekend of make up and making lotions, of cinema and popcorn; a weekend where I must hold on to my annoyance when trying to sleep to the tune of squealing girls...hmm, pass the wine already.

It does seem that birthdays go on for ever now - she said in the voice of an old and eeyorish maid - with weekends being the appointed time for sleepovers and the actual birthday involving a tea with guests in the form of grannies and friends too er... well, old really, for the weekend do. I would add that in my book to be not a teenager and therefore 'too old' is in this case considered a Good Thing!

Of course, we could make life a little easier for ourselves. We never did the party bag thing when the older children were tiny and the notion first came in partly because I always felt that the whole point of the party was to celebrate the birthday child not to seemingly reward children for turning up, but mostly because there was never any money to spare for the extras this would entail. I know things can be made for very little, but this has always entailed time and time is always precious when you have a spread of ages from baby upwards as was the case.

A slice of homemade cake and a balloon would be packed off with each child, me dreading the inevitable cry of 'but where's my party bag' from the little one on the verge of tears as its mother hustled it out the door. And of course, this meant more awkwardness when my own children would receive a bag at the parties they attended in return. What of my notions of celebrating the birthday child then?

I have never sorted this one out and actually quite like the idea as the years roll on, but feel what was done for one - albeit XXX years ago - must in turn be done for the rest, and so it is still a piece of cake, still homemade, still a balloon on a piece of string that they leave with.

And now Lucy is older? Well, the pizza and brownies, chocolate muffins and birthday cake are always made by us, but it is what the children request. They love my very thin, messily floppy tomato-topping-down-your-shirt style of garlicky pizza it seems. They love making beauty potions with Davey (who makes THE most gorgeous lotions and bath things, by the by) and eating his oozingly gorgeous chocolate birthday cake.

It would be so nice to just open some packets for once and throw it all in the oven. Ahh, but I can dream....

as I make up yet another batch of brownies and slug back another glass of the red stuff.

(P.S. I love it really!) x