Wild Party

Last Friday night, we had quite the party at my house. Oh, yes, there was loud music, and dancing, and much wild behavior, all night long, until the wee hours of the morning. There were lots of pretty girls.

There was also pizza, and sodas, and cake, and ice cream, and a piñata.
Oh, did I mention that this was a slumber party, celebrating our daughter’s eleventh birthday? And, did I mention the girls were her two cousins and three of her best friends – ages nine to twelve?

It was a rockin’ party, let me tell you.

We started out the evening in typical birthday party fashion: pizza, presents, cake, piñata. Next on the agenda was a water balloon fight. Unfortunately, our piñata time was interrupted by lightning, and we had to go inside, with promises to do the water balloon fight in the morning. So, after a symphony of squeals and shrieks at the loud thunder and lightning, the girls finally settled down to watch a movie: “It Takes Two”, with Mary Kate and Ashley.

Next, there was a dance competition. There was one grand prize winner, with a tie for second place. So of course, there was a dance-off to see who took second place. It could have been a reality television show, I’m telling you. Very high drama.

Then, at ten o’clock at night, it was time for makeovers. My dear friend Linda (who just happens to sell Mary Kay) stopped by to teach the girls about skin care and make-up techniques, just for fun. (No, I don’t allow my eleven-year-old to wear make-up. Except at ten o’clock at night on her birthday.)

The make-up revelry continued for a good two hours! Then, it was craft time. We decorated pillowcases. Now, in my ideal world, pillowcase decorating provides the perfect segue to bedtime. But apparently, eleven-year-old girls don’t know the meaning of the word segue. (Well, okay, neither did I until I looked it up. But I wanted to impress you.)

At 2:30 a.m., I quit being the cool mom, and became the Mean Mama. “Girls, get in your sleeping bags, and go to sleep. NOW!”

They did as they were told – or so I thought. I went to bed.

At 4:00 a.m., I was awakened by a shriek. I darted out of bed to check on the girls.

They were spinning.

Yes, spinning. They were standing up in their sleeping bags, and spinning until they fell into one another. The room was filled with giggling, dizzy girls. Apparently spinning is great fun, and has potential to become an Olympic sport.

Mean Mama got meaner. “Girls! Lay down and go to sleep! NOW!”

They did as they were told.

Or so I thought.

Now, during this whole ordeal, I did have adult support. Although Mark fled the scene shortly after the lightning show, my dear friend Jana stayed the night. She is a saint.

At 6:30 a.m., I heard little girl voices, but I was too tired to care. Jana whispered, “Renae, did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” I answered. But I didn’t move.

So, dear saint that she is, she got up and checked on the girls. A few minutes later, she reported with a laugh, “It is your daughter and your niece. My daughter is asleep, so the rest can do what they want.”

Some friend she is.

Still, I was too tired to do anything about my little night owl. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was very, very weak.

Finally, at 8:30 a.m., I dragged myself out of bed. Started the coffee. Parents were due at 9:00.

When A’s grandparent’s arrived, I sneaked into the slumber party room to find six little girls, out like lights. I gently called out, “A-, your grandparents are here. Time to go home.”

The girl stretched and said, “But I thought we were going to have a water balloon fight.”

“Well,” I whispered, “everyone is asleep.” Suddenly, like dead bodies popping out of their graves, six little girls sat straight up and said, “Water balloon fight? We’re not asleep! We want a water balloon fight!”

Within minutes, my front yard was filled with squealing girls and flying balloons. I’m sure the neighbors just loved that.

Now, I do have a reason for sharing all of this with you, my dear readers. I simply want to ask you a question: why haven’t one of you invented a way to bottle the energy of the young and sell it to the old? Coffee just isn’t cutting it. I could have used some of that eleven-year-old go-juice about 4:30 a.m. Honestly, I could use some of it right now.

I would invent it myself. But I’m just too tired.

Matthew 11:28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”