The Octogenarians and the Five Year Old

My big boy is now five years old. His birthday comes hot on the heels of New Years, so it’s not an ideal time with most of us in holiday mode, lots of people away and everyone recovering from Christmas madness.

But 5 is a pretty significant number, so…in a moment of mothering madness, I decided to have a birthday party. The invite was via text, about 4 days prior. The search for a birthday cake recipe began and the to do list got longer and longer.

The idea was to have a simple backyard party. Nothing too big, just a few friends and the kids having fun running around playing with water. As usual though, I was a little ambitious in what I thought I could get done in the time available and given that I have three little boys to care for.

Enter the Octogenarians – my dad and his brother/my uncle. I had asked dad if he could help me organise a few things that I couldn’t do alone and he roped in his brother. They moved and stacked timber, they mowed, they helped to re-arrange my diabolical mess under the house to make space for little people to ride the numerous bikes, trikes and various other  miniature modes of transport I seem to have miraculously acquired. They even hung a swing that’s been sitting around for the last 12 months waiting to get hung.

L can be a little difficult to buy presents for, so everyone was asking for guidance. In a moment of clarity (rare these days) I suggested that a great present would be a load of fresh sand for the sand pit. So that turned up as well thanks to Abbi & Andrew.

As the light started to fade on the day, we retired for cups of tea and pizza. Job done.

For them.

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I continued into the night once I had got the kids to sleep, baking the birthday cake, preparing the party bags and getting stuff organised for the big day.

The next morning we were up early as usual (around 5) and as this was the actual birthday, I had a few little presents for L to open, plus I had to get downstairs to put together the ride on four wheeler and get the battery charged – as this was his main present.

There was the blow up pool to get blown up, the tee pee to erect, the squirting circle thingy to be hooked up to the garden hose, etc, etc, etc. Before I knew it, guests started arriving and it was on for young and old. I did not stop. I did not take a single photo.

It all went well, with a lot of help from everyone. L had lots of fun and didn’t do anything too outrageous unless you count him stripping off and running around naked for a bit. (that’s actually pretty normal for him).

Everyone was gone by about 7pm and the place was not completely trashed, but I was. So when I got the last child to bed and asleep, I crawled into my bed, deliriously tired at about 8pm and went to sleep. When the baby woke at about 1pm, I woke up and felt totally refreshed having already gotten more sleep than I would normally get in a night. The joy of knowing I could go back to bed and get even more sleep was so overwhelming, I almost danced back to bed. I swore I would go to bed early more often.

Haven’t made it to bed before 11 since then. Oh well.

So…five whole years. Amazing.

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