On Open Doors And Hope For An Epic Celebration

Growing up, my neighborhood was full of open doors; our kid-herd bouncing from one house to another for a bathroom break, a snack, or a bandaid needed due to a roller skating race on the steep blacktop at the elementary school. Sheet forts lined chain-link fences and our parents had no idea where we were until dusk, when they rang a cowbell signaling it was time to come home.

I’ve always wanted to be the home with the open door; kids spilling in and out. It’s harder with an only child, but that makes me want it even more. We got close to being that open door home in Virginia (although it did take years of lonely motherhood).

I want my son to be part of a pack, chasing water, balloons, and one another.

Our last day of school/Tucker’s birthday/water gun fight had become an annual tradition. I mean, look. This video makes me happy.

When we moved to Colorado, I was excited to have a larger yard, big enough to erect temporary barriers and attack-spots for the splash party. Learning there was an extra week of school due to snow days only meant we’d simply postpone a trip scheduled for that week until later in June. With this being a harder year school and friend-wise for Tucker, I’m determined to make this tradition happen. Epic, if possible, because I’m all about epic birthday experiences for my soon-to-be-double-digits-years-old sweet boy.

In the past, we’ve invited Tucker’s entire class and all the neighbors we knew. This year, Tucker initially didn’t want to invite the girls from class because there’s one girl who, at the beginning of the year was “beautiful with blurry hair” and now is “a meanie and I don’t want her at my house.” Not sure I want to know the full story there.

“We’ll invite just the boys then,” I said and tried to figure out how to do so given that the student directory only has five email addresses for his classmates. I contacted his teacher who offered to stuff paper invitations in Friday folders, where parents receive test scores, graded homework, and notes about school events and all the upcoming whatevers going on. Friday folders felt like promise, and paper invitations is something I can do.

I spent some time on them, as paper invites are so “ago.” I thought they turned out nice.

So I sent them in for Friday folder distribution, and waited.

And waited.

If we’re friends on Facebook, you may have seen my mini meltdown/rant about hardly anybody RSVPing. As in THREE people sent an RSVP. The paper invites went out last Friday (almost a week ago), and three people have let me know whether they’ll be here eating pizza and cake and send their kids to squirt one another with water.

This is when I love Facebook, because friends, you rock. Somebody suggested I contact our local fire department and let them know we’re new to the area. “Maybe they’ll do something,” she said. A mom from the neighborhood whose son Tucker doesn’t know well offered to bring her kids, as did a friend and former co-worker (that I haven’t seen in 15 years). Plus, y’all were so great to commiserate with a panicked mama about how annoying the lack of RSVPs in general is (thank you).

Panicked me ended up making an evite for the few email addresses we have, adding the (entire) cub scout troop, and emailing his teacher begging him to send an email reminder even if it means inviting the whole class. Feel free to come over (or send your kids) if you (or they) don’t have plans May 31 from 4:30 to 7:30.

I don’t know how this year’s water gun birthday party will turn out, but I’ll leave the door open and hope for the best.

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This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, with this week’s (photo) prompt provided by the fabulous Mardra of MardraSikora.com.

PS – in wrapping this up, a mom from school texted me saying her son will be here. So that makes five coming so far, including his cousins and our sweet nextdoor neighbor.