THE PARTY IS OVER. It is done! Everything was fine! Although I am still STEEPING IN EMPATHY for a boy who was still there when everyone else had been picked up, saying to me, "I'm sorry" and "You can just go and I can wait here." *HEART CLENCH* This made me wish SO PROFOUNDLY for the knack of putting people at their ease in awkward situations. I TRIED, but he was still unhappy and embarrassed. I would have used that skill on his mother, too, when she arrived saying "I'M SO SORRY. I'M SO EMBARRASSED" (she hadn't changed her watch for the time change).
For statistical use: we sent out ten invitations; we got five RSVPs, all yes; we got a sixth RSVP-yes the night before, apologizing for forgetfulness and asking if it was still okay and saying she totally understood if it wasn't (full mercy awarded); we also had one where we didn't get an RSVP but it was William's best friend and she told him yes verbally, and it would have been such a colossal disaster if she COULDN'T come we would have expected an enormous kerfuff in that case, so anyway we felt confident she'd be there.
The three who didn't RSVP didn't come to the party. Of the four possible RSVP screw ups (RSVP yes but don't show, RSVP no but show up; no RSVP but show; no RSVP but no show), that one is the easiest to let slide---but GEEZ I wish they'd have RSVP'd a "no," because then we could have invited other kids to take those slots (the party package allowed 15 children maximum, and was still the same total price even if there were fewer children), because there were several that William had a very hard time deciding among. (William decided to invite all his siblings, so that's the other four, plus William himself counts as one, if you're doing the math.) I wish I could have come up with a good way of spelling out the "please tell us if you can't come so we can invite a second-stringer" thing on the invitations. Well. Anyway. It's OVER, and that's the important thing.
Cake statistics: William wanted chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, so I made one 9x13 chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and one 9x13 yellow cake with vanilla frosting. Of 12 party guests, 10 wanted the yellow cake. THIS BLEW MY MIND.
You know what is working pretty well? "You can't play with your presents until you've written your thank-you notes."
If you are both FULL and TALL (particularly FULL) of calf, but you want to wear knee socks, I recommend the "over the knee" style. Target has some at 75% off right now, and I bought some to wear under my air cast. The over-the-knee kind go right up to just under my knee, the way regular knee socks are supposed to. However, may I advise against the argyle? It seems the argyle is knit to look correct only on the unfilled sock; it would warp even on a narrow calf, but on my own calf there is comical warpage. Stripes! Stripes are good! And the diamond pattern (non-argyle, just teal/white/navy diamonds) works okay too.
You are wondering how we went from intense yellow to white paint for our room. It was something like this:
Step 1: Swistle dithers for hours over various shades of blue, green, yellow, etc.
Step 2: Paul says he wants bright yellow.
Step 3: Swistle dithers for hours over various shades of bright yellow, feeling anxious about how yellow will go with the quilt, and also feeling anxious about how yellow allegedly causes anxiety and depression.
Step 4: Paul sighs discontentedly when shown Swistle's preferred bright yellows, and says he wants the ones Swistle can't tolerate. Then he says the most important thing is that SWISTLE chooses what SHE wants. But SHE was trying to choose what HE wanted.
Step 5: Swistle goes into paint-color-choosing shock.
Step 6: Paul says he's buying the paint on the way home from work the next day, and Swistle needs to tell him what to buy. Swistle declines to reply.
Step 7: Paul emails from work: he's bringing home a paint color, and if Swistle doesn't tell him which one he will close his eyes and choose one at random.
Step 8: Swistle emails back: "White. The same Sea Salt I felt the paint clerk showed insufficient enthusiasm for when I chose it for the dining room."
Step 9: Paul emails back that this makes no sense and that Swistle should choose what SHE WANTS. What was that bright yellow she liked, again?
Step 10: Swistle emails back that yellow was what PAUL wanted, and that the ideal color with the quilt is a shade of Swistle Blue, but Swistle now associates that color with Swistleness and doesn't want it in the bedroom, and also she likes green but there are no greens she wants, and also WHITE IS WHAT SHE WANTED TO BEGIN WITH, OH CAN'T WE GET WHITE? It will look right with the quilt AND with the pictures, AND will still look good if we change to a different quilt!
Step 11: Paul comes home with a gallon of Sea Salt and paints the bedroom with it. It's great. Paul takes out the old icky carpet and Swistle makes the children wash the floor.
Step 12: This is not part of the paint-choosing process, but anyway we move our bed into that room and sleep there for the first time last night, and Swistle lies awake thinking THIS HAS ALL BEEN A TERRIBLE MISTAKE and she wants her old room back because THIS IS ALL WRONG and SHE HATES EVERYTHING.
Step 13: Swistle takes a sleeping pill and feels better in the morning, especially when it turns out we get morning light in our new room, which we didn't get in our old room.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...