Birthday Party For a Three-Year-Old

Grant and I escorted Tyler to a birthday party today.  One of his friends at daycare had turned three. We drove up to what looked like a mini castle.  The birthday boy, “Jack” had just woken up from a nap and was crying to his father, “Too many people.”  There were over fifty with tons of kids.  Jack was pretty freaked out.

The party had a children’s “fun fitness”  instructor outside with Kidzbop  blaring.  Whoever thought of Kidzbop should be shot.  I looked out over the deck and she seemed like a mile away.  I told Tyler to go have fun and I would meet him.  He played a few minutes and then noticed a mega swing set half a mile to our right and made straight for that.  Before I could catch up with him he had scaled the climbing wall and slid down the slide.  What I didn’t know was that at the bottom of the slide was a very muddy landing.  Tyler’s butt was completely covered. Oh well, no use crying over spilled mud.  Then he slid down on his belly, covering his shirt.

Another boy from daycare, “A.J.” was enjoying the swing set too, as well as the leaves and plants and dirt in the yard.  I said to A.J.’s mother, “We live in an apartment so Tyler doesn’t get much exposure to swing sets and backyards.”  She said she did too.  It was nice to find at least one other woman who probably felt like she didn’t belong either.  I looked around the property.  You could fit at least two more mini-castles on the land.

Suddenly, the birthday boy came running over to play with A.J. and Tyler.  Seconds later his mother said, “Jack, come back over to the fitness instructor.”  Jack started crying.  She then dragged him back as he was screaming.  “Jack!  You have to come back to your party!”  Fuck lady, the kid is three-years-old and this IS his party!  Why can’t he do what he wants to do?

The party favors they gave out cost more than the gift we had given him.  Plus, I had to borrow some of Jack’s clothes because Tyler was so muddy…and I don’t think I can get the stains of birthday cake and food off the shirt he was lent.  They lost money on us, big time.

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About mamasick

Emily Cullen is a pen-name. I suffer from chronic illnesses and diseases which include Bipolar Disorder, Asthma, Diabetes and Fibromyalgia. I had battled Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis but there is no longer evidence of me having these diseases and my Rheumatologist has declared them to be "burnt out" of my system. I am separated from my husband, “Grant”. Our son, “Tyler” was born in September of 2006 and suffers from tics and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and is delayed in fine and gross motor skills. In my blog I seek to let sick moms know that they are not the only ones going through this, and to educate people about what can happens when one becomes catastrophically ill. I also strive to break down stereotypes of what a “Welfare Mom” is like. Anything that I have gone through due to being sick, is written on the pages of Mama Sick.

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