Parties, Tents and Sugar Make Everything Better

The Lawyer was pissed until I threw him a party.

Resentful. Angry. Confused. Sad. Peeved. He was all of those until he helped his daddy erect our massive 8-person tent in the playroom. The darn thing is so big it touches every perimeter of the room.

"I should just hit you with this bat right now," he muttered under his breath, gripping an aluminum baseball bat after hitting a few Nerf balls in the front yard with me yesterday morning.

"Whaddyou' just say?"

"Nothing."

I knew what he said, but didn't press him to repeat it. He's never said anything even remotely as mean as that to me before. I chalked it up to anger and let it go. Let it bounce off.

Instead of dwelling on The Lawyer's soul sucking mood, I waved the white flag and organized a sleep over in his honor.

A party to celebrate The Lawyer's sudden switch to a new kindergarten had two basic purposes: 1) to lift his spirits, to surround him with the people who love him the most, to provide a sense of normalcy and 2) to ease my searing mom guilt over pulling the carpet out from under his feet with no warning.

So far, it's working. The Lawyer's favorite cousin came down on short-notice from Ventura with her little sister. His 9-year-old neighborhood boy hero joined the impromptu shindig as well. Of course, his younger siblings Pigtails and Cheeks were at his side, as always. Just enough super sugar injected children to make the 8-person tent feel far less spacious and more like a popcorn popper than a tent, enough to nearly give me a heart attack.

They screamed at the top of their lungs, played hide-and-seek forever, just barely watched Monster House (from behind shaking fingers that covered their eyes as it was projected drive-in style on white sheets taped to the wall), ate buckets of junk food like Doritos, Whoppers and Hostess cup cakes on the living room floor (two major coups for them -- I rarely allow them to eat candy, let alone any place other than the kitchen table).

The celebration continues with the SuperBowl kicking off at 3:30, when my husband will cart all three of our football crazy kids off to his brother's house to watch it on the flat screen.

The Lawyer's distracted and happy for now. We'll see how he feels tomorrow when we stop by his new school tomorrow to look in on his new teacher, his new class, his new world.

Yesterday I received a really sweet letter from his "old" school. The admissions officer wrote the letter presumably the day I informed her that we would be moving on. At least that's what the post mark would indicate. In it she said that she'd miss seeing Pigtails and Cheeks bounce around the office, on their way through to pick up their big brother. Very thoughtful, very touching, but also very professional.

I didn't think I would, but I too will miss our harried traipses through the office. The times the little ones dragged their feet on their way to get their brother, still groggy from nap time.

Tuesday is The Lawyer's first full day at his new school. Who do you think will be more nervous? Me or him? I think we all know the answer to that one.