Sunday, 12 February 2012

Party (no poop)


Today was a very exciting day in the world of Dexter: his first birthday party. We held his party in the function room above our local pub. The husband and I had our first date at said pub, long before we lived in our current flat which now makes it our local. I also danced the night away in hot pants on my 30th birthday at the very same venue, so it seemed like an appropriate place to celebrate the boy's milestone.

I spent last night putting together party bags and making fairy cakes with some help from my mum and niece. This morning, I was furiously wrapping a pass-the-parcel gift whilst mum and sister were on tiny, triangular, baby-friendly sandwich-making duty. I also had to set up the room, with help from various family members. Throughout all of these slightly frantic party preparations, the boy had an epic snooze. This did however mean that Dexter was true to his Wayne heritage and arrived late to his own party.

This didn't really matter too much. The party was well-attended by family and friends. Sadly, Nana Vron and Grandad John were snowed-in in the wilds of the Kent countryside, so couldn't make it. This also meant there was no 'pin the tail on the donkey' as creative Nana Vron had made the donkey for us - I'm hoping it will make an appearance at Christmas in some wonderfully artistic Nativity scene. However, the husband and I felt quite overwhelmed by how lucky we are, and how super-lucky Dexter is to have such brilliant, kind, lovely, fabulous and supportive family and friends.

Highlights included: my vision of a robot theme, which worked out quite well on the day; seeing all the NCT babies and parents together - so lucky on that one as they are a fabulous bunch; a slightly tense game of pass-the-parcel with me in charge of the music and desperately trying to keep it fair; the huge generosity of our guests and Dexter's  haul of cards and gifts; the presence of a bar and two large white wine spritzers that kept me going for three hours; the boy tucking into an enormous plate of sandwiches, and eating an awful lot of party food off the pub floor; the sheer privilege of the whole experience.

It was a fun, funny, entertaining, sociable, exhausting and emotional afternoon - and like all great parties, Dexter won't remember a thing.

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