So, there I was, as innocent as an Imp can be (Stop that snickering. I’m not *always* causing trouble, dang it), checking out some links. I thought, “Gee, maybe we should do something for New Years for the Minions. They’re getting older, they’d enjoy it…” And that was my first mistake.
With each click of a link, my internal horror grew, along with my feelings of inferiority.
Diva came rushing over to see what I was looking at. Apparently, my cries of, “No…No…NOOOOOOO!” alarmed her. And the whimpering. And head banging on the desk. Or, she was just nosy, and figured that whatever provoked me to such angst might be something she could adapt for her own personal game of “Get Momma”.
Instead, she joined me in my cries of, “Oh, HECK NO!”
First of all, straws loaded with confetti. Five children. Confetti straws. NO. The mess, oh Lord have mercy, the MESS. And, as Diva pointed out, “What happens if someone sucks instead of blows?” Yeah, try explaining THAT one at the ER. (What’s it say that the mess was the first thing I thought of, and not the kids inhaling confetti? I’m going with, “I have confidence in their ability to know the difference between ‘suck’ and ‘blow’ for $200, Alex.”
Another suggestion was labelling balloons with the hours, and POPPING each balloon as the hour passed.
Uh, maybe you recall my feelings on balloons? That they’re Satan’s boogers? Yeah, no balloon popping, thankyouverymuch. Or a balloon drop.
Then, we ran across a post that mentions ‘tablescapes’.
“What,” asked a confused Diva, “Is a tablescape?”
I had no clue.
Turns out, ‘tablescape’ is a term for fancying up your dining room table. As in, “Let’s do something expensive, that will take days of planning, organizing, more money than you can possibly ever justify spending on a single meal’s decorating, and hours and hours of execution, that the Terror Toddler Duo will destroy in 30 seconds or less.” Seriously, from what I saw, a ‘tablescape’ is more expensive and involved than what I had for my wedding. The one I checked out included decorating your chandelier. I don’t own a chandelier. Heck, I don’t even own a dining room table. I don’t even have a DINING ROOM. We have a giant kitchen table that I adore, but because it is so big, it’s wedged into the kitchen, up against a wall. And, due to a lack of counter space and electrical outlets, holds our monster microwave and my beloved Tim Horton’s coffee maker.
Noise makers (homemade ones, of course) were another suggestion. I already have homemade noise makers. FIVE of them in the house, to be exact. I’d include Bazinga the Wonder Dog in that, but I didn’t make her…and she’s actually the quietest living creature in the house.
So, now I’m contemplating a Non Stepford Home New Years Eve for the Minions.
Food. Gotta do food. And no, I’m not doing a gourmet meal. First off, anything that takes hours and hours of prep? Not. Gonna. Happen. Between the one-armed issues, and the simple, “I have five freaking kids in the house, I’m not spending hours on pastry wrapped unicorn steaks on a bed of fairy wings, served by talking forest critters.” mentality, gourmet is out. I’m thinking of a couple of boxes of frozen hors d’oeuvres. (And yes, I *did* have to google how to spell ‘hors d’oeuvres’ dang it.) They love sausage rolls. Maybe some little quiche thingies.
Movie: Gotta have a movie. I suspect that there might be a dvd of some nature under the Christmas tree this year. Done.
Craft: I’ve zero clue. Princess and to a lesser extent, Diva are crafty. These days, Diva’s very much into her sewing, and not at all into other crafts, so really, it would end up being a Princess activity. Oh, and Boo’s loving colouring these days. Cubby wants to colour, but considers crayons as a snack food. While crayons are non toxic, technicolor poop is not a goal here, so no colouring for him.
Special drink: I’m not doing anything that includes tiny umbrellas, or cotton candy. Noooooooope. (Seriously, there’s a drink out there, for kids, that has you putting cotton candy in a glass and pouring liquid over it. Kids. Sugar. Artificial colour. AT NIGHT. My kids would be like hummingbirds on crack. Not. Happening.) I’m thinking juice with some cherries in it. Or maybe even a slug of ginger ale. Living on the wild side, that’s me!
I can’t be the only mother on the planet that would LIKE to do something special for the kids on New Years, but not willing to hire a party coordinator for it, right? Or a personal chef? Or home stylist?
Seriously, some of the ideas I’ve run across make me very aware that if this is the new standard of mothering, my kids are way screwed. Forever and for always.
My poor Minions.