It was my son’s party and I could cry if I wanted to. So I did

Yesterday we celebrated Little Pencil’s birthday party with 12 boys* at a go-karting track.  Read that sentence again bearing in mind that I am a neurotic, over protective and, some say (some being my family), fun-phobic mother.   As you digest that allow me to add that this go-karting track was an hour’s drive from my home.   Not only did I have the “pleasure” of 12, super excited, heat frazzled,  8 and 9 year old boys but I had the dubious honour of transporting them to a venue 60 minutes from the comfort of my home.

60 minutes away from home could be seen as a good thing.  The more kilometres between the boys and my home the better.  But the thing was that we had to spend an hour in the car with these gorgeous young men (using gorgeous young men in the sense of loud, rambunctious  little boys)

As a little background information you should be aware that I had not slept for two nights.  The first night I was up trying to recognise the person in the mirror who had fallen to the insanity of hosting a go-karting party.  The second night I was up googling “go-karting and injuries” and as 3am turned to 4am I started to google “go-karting and death”.  At 5:30 am in a fit of hope I woke Mr Pencil to reassure myself that these particular go-karts did not have engines.  He looked almost excited even at this ungodly hour and reassured me “of course they do”.  It was too late to cancel.

Five  very eager dads had volunteered to take to the party.  I know that this was because they wanted a chance at the go-karting but I took their help anyway.  So Mr Pencil and I took 3 kids and distributed the others amongst the other poor souls.

I was planning on catching up on some much needed rest in the car but instead, after 5 minutes of driving I found myself opting to walk the 40 or so kilometres.  After Mr Pencil admonished me for daring to leave him alone with the children, I learned quite a bit about driving with three 8 year old boys in a car

• They will constantly repeat things that you find irritating and annoying.  If you ask them not to do it again they will say it with a different intonation that includes more whine
• They will need to wee as soon as you get on to the highway.  If you happen to find a place where you can stop and they can discreetly wee behind a tree, they will need to poo
• They will develop an insatiable and desperate thirst as soon as they realise you have no liquids in your car
• They will not get your attempts at humour.
• They will make you feel absolutely awful about your singing voice and knowledge of the current top 40
• They will not stop talking at all. Unless they are shouting.
• They will not let you sleep

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The actually party was quite a learning experience in itself.  As I left the therapists office I was able to recall these lessons

• The indemnity forms that says go-karting is DANGEROUS should be well hidden from the mother of the party child.  It looks really bad when said mother is blowing into a brown paper bag when she is laying out the party food**
• Do not attempt to tell your child not to worry when he’s clearly not worried but you are
• Do not attempt to stand on a go-kart track when there is a race taking place just because you want to see your son’s smile
• At least two of the children at the party will cry.  One will be crocodile tears.  One will be a deep emotional or physical problem.  You will invariably console the crocodile.
• You should take a lighter for the birthday candles.  A stapler and toothbrush are really not necessary.
• Do not attempt to bribe children with coins for the arcade games.  There is no limit to the depths of the coin slots
• Do not have a party where  you are required to travel an hour to get home.  If you fall to such insanity make sure there is NO sugar at the party
• Text all parents to remind them to come and collect their children at least half an hour before you need them to leave
• Make sure that you do not inadvertently steal a platter from the venue  (okay most people wouldn’t but I did, although I like to think I just borrowed it forever)

Mr Pencil and Little Pencil say the party was great.  They had a ball.  All I can remember is that there was a lot of noise. And mess. And boys.

Next year we are going to see a movie.  Just the three of us.  But don’t tell them that – they may accuse me of being fun-phobic.

*and one girl but she was delightful and easy and made of sugar and spice and all things nice.

**If you are reading this blog and your child was at the party, I promise that they are safe now  (maybe they weren’t before but they are now) .