I’m fortunate enough to have friendships with many of the moms of my child’s friends. We hang out with the kids, without the kids, whatever. And that’s why kid’s birthday parties are not painful. It’s a chance for the kids to play, get all hopped up on sugar, and for the moms to kibitz.
So today, we had a girls only birthday spa party for one of our friends. Since it’s right up my daughter’s alley I thought she’d be all about it.
If she’s not feeling it however, which happens, then she makes a mad dash and spends the entire time trying to climb back into my uterus.
Today was one of those days.
While all the moms were sitting on the couches up front, I was following my child from pampering station to pampering station. She has me in her peripheral vision the whole time and I think she might have eyes in the back of her head too. Or she installed a lojack while I was sleeping. Because god forbid I have to pee, or want a drink of water, “Mom, Mommy, Mommmmmm!
So, I sat at the party, watching the staff (shoved into fairy princess consumes like sausages in a casing, some needing to attend to the 5 o’clock shadow emerging from their armpits), ushering the little 6 yr old divas around. They donned spa-style waffle robes, sipped pink lemonade from champagne flutes, got manis, pedis, facials, got their hair done, got some Elsa and Anna tattoos and had “Let it Go” blasting through the speakers on repeat. My child, who was once Frozen obsessed and knows every word to every song, was silent.
I also noticed how much hookers and 6 yr old girls have in common when it comes to their choices for loud makeup. Most of them picked some form of blue eyeshadow (why do they even make blue eyeshadow?), red lipstick and lots of glitter. They kind of looked like that crazy lady from the Drew Carey Show.
Elsa even came out to surprise the little ladies and do a live rendition of Let it Go. My child loved it (finally), had a sheepish grin the whole time, leaned over and whispered in my ear, “mom, you know that’s not really Elsa, right? It’s a wig, I can see her brown hair sticking out” (God, she’s so my kid). “I know baby, don’t ruin it for the others.”
Then it was time for the fashion show. The girls are in the back like mini-models waiting to bust through the curtain in their tutus, and mine broke out in to tears. This is a kid who has her karaoke machine on in the house for most hours that she’s awake. Ughhhhhhh! Is there champagne to spike the pink lemonade (for me, not her!)???
We do the obligatory happy birthdays, the kids down some treats (not mine though), we get the party favors, and head out the door. I’m sweating and exhausted and it’s noon. NOON!!!
Publix was next door and I needed to go, so I took my made-up mini me in to get it out of the way. The looks I was getting in the produce section ranged from confused to amused. I was so in the zone of getting what I needed, I forgot for a second it was because I had a 6 yr old, white, Ru Paul impersonator walking alongside me.
And here’s the irony, almost the moment we turned the corner outside of the birthday party, all of a sudden, my child broke out in to song. And not just any song…yep, that’s right…Let it Go. With full arm motions and lots of vibrato. And even some twirls.
She sang in the car.
When we pulled into the garage.
And when we got in the house.
Then she busted out the karaoke machine and continued.
WTF!!! Is she effing with me?!?!?!??!?!
She then sat down to shove spoonfuls of rice krispies in her mouth, while simultaneously asking me if she could go to school tomorrow in her drag queen makeup. Begging actually.
It was an adorable party, even with the make up faux pas, and she walked out saying she wanted a party like that (seriously, is she effing with me???!)
I’m now listening to her belt out Justin Bieber with her prom up-do, obsessively checking her face in the mirror to make sure her makeup is still in tact, and watching all the glitter on my floor that I will have to vacuum up when she detaches from me and goes to bed.
Happy Birthday Nadia!!!