Big day

Birthdays are a big deal to little kids. The presents, the cake, and being the center of attention are some of the highlights of their lives. While I'm not ready to shell out for a Titanic-themed mega event, I do my best to make my children's birthdays special.

What could be more special than a ballet birthday for my new five year old? I invited all of the girls from her nursery school, and the girls from her ballet class as well to a party at her dance school. I ordered a beautiful chocolate cake with white frosting and pink and lavender flowers, not purple, but lavender. And I brought pretzels, crackers, hummus, fruit, juice boxes, water, and some lovely flower lollipops for the goody bags.

I also picked up cards, envelops, and stickers for the girls to decorate for mother's day.

The whole event was planned: 45 minutes of dancing, 25 to 30 minutes for cake and snacks, and 15-20 minutes to make cards. From the moment we arrived to set the party up, I knew my plans were about to go down the drain.

As I set up the fruit platters and gift bags, my birthday girl tore into the cards and stickers. Girls began drifting in early, and were drawn to the crafts table like little butterflies to flowers. Instead of the neat, mother's day cards with a pretty sticker accent that I had envisioned, the girlie-girls plastered every square inch of their cards with as many stickers as they could fit, and then a few more for good measure. I nearly fainted as $30 of stickers disappeared before even half of the girls had arrived.

Once a plurality of the girls had arrived, we marched into the dance studio, and I sat back to watch a dozen or so nursery school girls transformed into princesses, fairies, and ballerinas. Sort of. The birthday girl became a ballerina butterfly princess fairy.

This was her party, and she ruled it with a satiny fist. She led the dancing, and her ladies-in-waiting followed her lead. I watched slightly confused. Was she having fun? Was she bored? It was hard to say. Her expression was enigmatically serious.

After a while, I stopped worrying. Birthday girl was merely taking her party hostess duties very seriously, and what could be more important than leading the procession?

Girls in dresses and tutus followed her in a little Congo Line, looking equally absorbed.

All but baby sister. She danced to her own little rhythms. The baby who has spent months peering in at her big sister learning to plie and leap, had to be content with her role as observer. At last, she had the opportunity to participate.

And she did. The "Most Non-Fragile Baby in the World" danced here.

And she danced there.

With a scarf or a beanbag in hand, she danced everywhere. And occasionally, she would run to mommy's arms for a quick hug, before rejoining the fray.

Halfway through the dancing segment, the birthday girl attempted to lead the Conga Line out the door of the studio, into the room with the birthday cake. I had to lead her back in saying, it's not quite time for that yet!

Five minutes later, she asked again. "Is it time for cake yet?"

A few minutes later, she was a bit more demanding. "I'm hungry NOW!" And with that announcement, we cut the dancing short and allowed my daughter to lead the line back towards the cake. Her friends followed eagerly.

My dear cousin and I served the crackers, pretzels and fruit as fast as we could. "I want grapes!" Demanded one princess. "I want strawberries!" Bellowed another. "Where's my water?" Shouted another. The two of us ran circles around the table trying to meet the demands of the precocious guests. Finally, their demands satisfied, and eerie silence fell over the table as over a dozen pint-sized girls inhaled their snacks.

And then the demands began again. "Pretzels!" Shouted one. "Crackers!" Came another, and three different calls for grapes came at us in stereo.

It was time for desperate measures...the birthday cake.

By the time it was all over, a dozen or so girls dwindled out with goodie bags in hand, chocolate cake goatees on chins, and handmade mother's day cards plastered with stickers and sticky with icing, ready to be lovingly delivered to mom.

And where was the law school dad during the festivities?

Sequestered at home, reading 400 pages of cases for the law review writing competition.

When we got home, the party was ancient history. The more pressing issue was opening the birthday presents. Heavenly Polly Pockets, dreamy barbies, and a cuddly Cabbage Patch doll led to fits of excitement, swoons, of delight, and a particularly adorable call of:

"Okay, okay! Let's calm down now!" from a deliriously happy little birthday girl. She looked at my husband and I, puzzled, as we split our sides laughing at such mature words coming from our sweet half-pint.

The party may not have gone exactly as planned, but it was a rousing success nonetheless.

And with the last present opened, we were ready to put the Spring birthday season to bed.

I couldn't have asked for a better Mother's Day.