The (No) Slumber Party

Mark decided to have a low-key birthday party this year. Instead of a big blow-out, he opted for his first slumber party. (And for the record, the words "sleep" and "slumber" should never preface "party" when referring to pre-teens. Because honestly, the last thing on their minds was sleeping!)

Mark was excited about having his friends for a sleep-over, and I was excited for him. I have a lot of great slumber party memories from my childhood, and am glad he'll have some now, too (even though there won't be any bras to freeze when the first kid falls asleep).

Because Mark's friends are super busy, we had a staggered arrival. Jonah arrived first. He and Mark played in the backyard until Sean arrived, then they jumped out and scared Sean half to death. The three of them played until dinner arrived, when I realized I was a little optimistic in my pizza order. (Apparently, I'd invited the only three growing boys in America who do not eat like they're starving).

Next up was the birthday cake. Mark opted for his very favorite, German chocolate, from his favorite bakery. Bad host that he is, he was thrilled to learn Sean and Jonah don't like German chocolate, and that he'd get the entire cake to himself. (And I thought I was an optimist...) Sean and Jonah made do with ice cream and Thin Mints, and soon enough, they were all sufficiently hopped up on the sugar of their choice.

And with that much energy, there was only one thing to attack...the video games! Mark has a Wii, which I bought so he could be active while playing games, and so I could feel less guilty about using a video game console as an electronic babysitter. Well, Mark foiled that plan by picking out the least-active games, like skateboarding and Sonic the Hedgehog, who does all the running for Mark. Within minutes, the boys were jumping around the room like maniacs, and I escaped to the other end of the house.

Sean went off to a jazz concert with his dad, and was replaced by Tristan, who was in a play earlier that evening. (Snow White--Tristin played the Huntsman, the "manliest character in the play!" he proudly told me.) Sean returned, then Jonah left. It was like a carousel of rotating kids. The cast of players kept changing, but the noise level in the room never did.

I started the bedtime ritual around 11 p.m., which pretty much meant nothing. There were three boys left, and it was kind of like being in a room with velociraptors. I'd tell them to go to bed, and then one would slink off to the side. Then I'd turn to face him, and the other two boys divided and moved around the room. They'd just silently plop onto the nearest couch, never looking up; no eye contact, just staring down at their iTouches. I turned around the place, constantly telling one boy or another to go to bed, and all the while, Sonic laughed at my futile attempts and kept pounding innocent little creatures onscreen. I finally pulled the plug, literally, until the Wii went dead, and the boys could no longer ignore me.

They hit Mark's room around 11:30. And then, it was like the last scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, when Indiana Jones tells everyone not to open their eyes, not to look at what was going on NO MATTER WHAT. I heard crazy, savage noises from Mark's room. I flinched a lot, but forced myself to stay put. Some noises I recognized (sports trophies falling), some were indistinct crashes immediately followed by giggling.

"Stay out," I told myself, and then repeated it. They were in Mark's domain now; if he didn't mind them trashing his room, I didn't mind. It took all my restraint NOT to go in there and tell them to settle down. But hey, it was Mark's party, and I wasn't about to ruin it, unless they really were in imminent danger (which I minimized by hiding all the matches, lighters and anything flammable).

They were still going strong at 12:30, then 12:45. I fell asleep on the couch in the living room (still heard crashing in the room), but when I awoke at 1:30, it was finally quiet. Eerily quiet. I tiptoed down the hallway, and frowned--why was the light in my room on?

And then I saw him--the birthday boy, in his sleeping bag. He'd given up on getting any shut-eye in his room, and had moved to my room instead. He was fast asleep on my floor, and looked so sweet and innocent, angelic almost--nothing like the crazed madman jumping on the couch three hours earlier. I couldn't help kissing his forehead, and whispering "Goodnight."

Mark was up before 7, but I warned him not to wake the other boys yet. I knew it was only a matter of time before my sleep-deprived child melted down, and I hoped to keep the meltdown number to just one boy, if I could.

Mark hesitated, then realized the longer they slept, the more time he got to play the Wii alone. He let them sleep.

But tween boys have incredibly sensitive hearing. They may not be able to hear you the 50 times you ask them to make their beds or brush their teeth, but they can distinguish the faint bing! of a video game from miles away. There was a slight rustling in the other room, and then two sleepy boys emerged, wiggling their thumbs in a pre-game warm-up.

So the second round of the video game marathon ensued. The boys paused briefly to go for donuts, then returned to battling Mario Brothers until their parents came to pick them up. I enjoyed coffee and the Sunday paper in the other room, and realized there really is no better sound in the whole world than kids laughing.

Mark was sad when the boys finally left, but he sighed deeply, and said happily, "That was fun." He had a slew of new gift cards, the Wii, and an entire German chocolate cake (minus the piece he ate the night before) all to himself. 

It was a good day, indeed. And an even better birthday!

One proud mom

As a working mom, I don't get many chances to socialize with the other moms at Mark's school. I walk Mark to school, and pick him up at Kid's Club afterwards, and I don't often see other parents.

But slowly I've been meeting them. I met some at Mark's birthday party, and they were all very nice. So I was thrilled last weekend when Mark was invited to Damian's birthday party, and I got to see those parents again.

While the boys were in the laser tag arena, I talked with Damian's mom. She's really nice, and very friendly. We talked about the boys, and she kept saying how sweet her son was.

"He just hates arguments," she said. "A couple weeks ago, some kids were fighting on the playground, and he tried to step in and break it up."

And this is when the parent meet-and-greet went south. That story sounded vaguely familiar.

I gave an embarrassed little laugh and said, "Oh, I think that was my kid!"

She stopped for a moment, but then dismissed my comment, trying to save my dignity. "Oh, maybe," she said. "It was when Mr. Robinson banned them all from playing one-touch for a week."

And...confirmation!

"Yep, that was definitely my kid then!" I said. It figures -- I finally get a chance to talk with other parents, and the first story I hear is about my kid fighting!

The boys came running out of the laser tag game just then. I pointed out Mark and another boy running right next to him.

"There go the two culprits," I told her.

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed.

"Oh, I didn't mean -- " she started. "I was just..." She didn't know where to go with it.

I leapt in to save her. "Don't worry," I said. "It's okay! And the boys were best friends again the next morning, so it's no big deal."

"Yeah, boys are much easier when it comes to stuff like that," she said. "They don't hold grudges like girls do."

I agreed, and we kept on talking. I thought it was pretty funny -- here I finally get to talk to other parents, and the first thing we talk about is Mark's bad behavior!

Nothing like making a good first impression, I always say...