Talk about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions...
Mark's 9th birthday is coming up, and we've been discussing party plans. He wants a skating party like last year, even though I've suggested other new activities such as bowling, ice skating, you name it. Each suggestion was met with, "Maybe...no, I want a skating party."
Until I found a really cool place called Pump It Up. It's a party place filled with inflatables kids can jump on for two hours straight. It sounded perfect for a group of hyperactive 9-year-old boys! And it seemed even more perfect when I told them my party date, and they said they'd just had a rare cancellation.
"Usually, you need to book a party 3 to 4 months in advance," the woman told me. Come on, any place that requires booking that far ahead of time must be a blast.
I showed Mark the Web site, and he seemed all right with it. "OK," he said quickly. "I'll have my party there."
I asked if he was sure about it, and he said yes. "I have to call back today and put down a deposit," I warned. "So be sure!"
"I am!" he promised.
So I made the deposit, and finalized the plans. I was so excited to find a cool party place -- Mark can invite up to 25 kids, and adults are all free. I thought we were good.
Until I got home. Mark was sitting at the table when I casually mentioned that I had booked his birthday party at Pump It Up. He immediately burst into tears -- not exactly the reaction I was expecting.
"I wanted a skating party!" he wailed, and all I could think of was, "What the...?"
"You told me to book the party," I said. "You said you wanted to go here!"
"No, I said I wanted a skating party!" He wouldn't stop crying. He grew more and more upset, until he couldn't even talk, he was crying so hard.
So, great. Instead of Thoughtful Mother Who Planned the Perfect Birthday Party, I'm now the Mean Wicked Mother Who Ruined My 9th Birthday. (Guess I've given him more fuel for his tell-all Mommy Dearest book!)
Or, as I now like to call myself, Mean Wicked Mother Who's About to Lose Her $100 Deposit.
I know my sisters-in-law are much kinder souls, who all put their children's happiness first. I know all three of them would immediately cancel the party, take their kids out for ice cream, and apologize profusely for inflicting such stress upon them.
I, however, am a Dinsdale by birth (not marriage), which unfortunately means sometimes I think more like my brothers than like my sisters-in-law. And in this case, I reacted the same as my brothers would, which is to say, "It'll be fun, you'll like it, SUCK IT UP!"
I've never wanted to say suck it up more than I wanted to last night, but I bit my tongue instead. The dang kid kept crying, and I started thinking, Geez, I'm going to hear about ruining his birthday for the rest of my life!
But I'm still kinda mad about the whole thing. I mean, it's not like I picked a jail or work camp to hold his party -- I wouldn't have it somewhere he'd hate! I honestly thought he'd have a great time there -- he's always the first kid in the jump house whenever we see one, and the last kid out. I didn't purposefully pick a rotten party venue just because I hate roller skating parties (which I don't, for the record).
If he really wants a skating party, I guess I'll give in. However...I'm not giving up that $100 deposit without a fight!
"How about a compromise?" I asked. He finally stopped sobbing long enough to hear me out.
"What if we go to Pump It Up on Saturday and look around? If you absolutely hate it, I'll cancel the party." He wiped away his tears, and nodded.
So we're going on a field trip Saturday morning. And I'm sending out party invitations this weekend -- even though I'm not sure where the party will be!
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