On Sunday, Max celebrated his seventh birthday. We were on a family camping trip (although I suppose I am using the term "camping" a bit loosely, since we were all in cabins). In the weeks leading up to the big event, Max had been a bit indifferent to his birthday plans, but when pressed to really think about it, his conclusion was that he didn't want to have his birthday on the camping trip. He did want to go camping, however, to see his cousins and his grandparents and wondered if we could do that before or after his birthday. There was not much flexibility, since many of my extended family were planning the trip, and the date was firm. I decided to plan a party for him to have on the trip, and to see what he really felt like when we were there. Luckily, in making all the preparations for the event, he got a bit excited about it, and as we stopped at the party store to pick up the Darth Vader pinata (just minutes before we finally hit the road for the trip), he announced, "I've decided I do want to have a party on the camping trip." He also picked out Darth Vader paper plates and a candle. He painted Darth Vader goodie bags for his guests.
We took all of our Star Wars costumes and accessories (including 10 costumes and 5 light sabers), and my brother and my cousin Keith also brought some costumes and light sabers too, so we had enough for all the kids. We spent the first part of the party dressing up in costumes and chasing each other with light sabers and blasters, which made some of the onlookers a bit nervous as it seemed a bit dangerous.
As my brother reassured my mom, they'll just chase each other around until someone gets hurt, and then we'll have an excuse to stop and move on to the next thing. Which is basically what happened.
We moved onto water balloons. We had a big bowl of them, but in the all the excitement, they were gone in about 5 minutes. We thought about filling up some more balloons (although this was a very time-consuming project), and it was suggested that we shouldn't do it because the kids didn't seem to grasp the concept of the game (initially we had tried to get them to throw them back and forth until they broke, but they preferred to just grab them and throw them in a much less organized fashion).
My thought on the matter was that if the concept was to have fun, then they seemed to have grasped it pretty well, and I suppose this sentiment was shared by the kids, as I heard one of them exclaim as they ran into the house, "This is the best day ever!" Unfortunately, it was that same child who later got hit in the head with a blaster, and that incident had a bit of a dampening effect on the party (not to mention being no fun for the child). It started with the Darth Vader pinata.
We pulled the ribbons, but it was a bit anticlimactic, as the candy didn't fall down but stayed stuffed in the head.
So the kids had a good time taking turns banging on it with the weapon of their choice, taking whatever candy they were able to dislodge on their turn. This worked really well, and there were several adults (including my cousin Jeremy, who turned out to be quite the party coordinator) who were making sure that the kids stayed a safe distance from the whacking.
Finally, the the whole mass of candy poured out, and all the kids ran forward to get their share. Otto took one last swing at the pinata with his big blaster, which missed the pinata and hit Brady right on the back of the head. It was quite a whack, and Brady screamed. As has also happened with my kids on head injuries, a knot swelled up rather quickly, and he needed to ice it and take a break from the festivities. I think he quickly reevaluated the status he had just given the day.
It was also a bit strange, as it always is when in a group of people who parent in a more conventional way, to have those moments after the injury where the other party is very likely expecting an apology. My typical response to this is to go to the "aggressor" and explain that the "victim" is hurt, and ask if they would like to check on them to see if they are feeling better and tell them that the injured party might feel better if you told them you were sorry. I tried these on Otto, but he just hung his head (he was embarrassed, as he often is in this situation). I felt like doing the same.
Max doesn't like much acknowledgment of his birthday (he doesn't like people to say happy birthday to him, and he absolutely doesn't like anyone to sing it), so I had given instructions to everyone that they should not pass on those wishes to him. I suppose it's a bit awkward for other people to stare at the cake and say nothing, but it seems to work for Max, and I guess on his own birthday, it's the least we could do to honor that wish.
All that was left to do after the Brady injury was to come in for cake and ice cream and to no singing. So the end of the party was pretty awkward, I suppose. We lit the candles, Max blew them out, we ate the cake and ice cream.
Max opened presents from Grandma and Grandpa (new red pants to replace the holey ones he wants to wear every day! a new red shirt to serve the same purpose! an interactive Indiana Jones book! binoculars!) and from Noah and Owen (new games for the Wii!) and from us (a glockenspiel, on which he immediately played Indiana Jones).
The party was over, and although I think all the kids had a good time, I was feeling a bit sad about the outcome of it and worried about all the adults' opinions (ones like, "I knew it wasn't a good idea to play with those blasters"). I'd like to worry less about what other people think about these things, and actually over the years, I have gotten better about this (I think the greatest challenge I have had as an unschooler is letting go of the need for other's approval of us). But I was still feeling sort of low (I was also operating on very little sleep and a bad cold, which certainly didn't help the matter). Max also did not seem to be having a particularly good time, which was probably largely affected by my mood.
We decided to take the last boat ride out on the pontoon boat we had rented for the day.
It was a lovely afternoon, and once again it seemed to be my cousin Jeremy who set the tone for a relaxed event (we were a bit worried, as technically the boat was due back to the dock at 6 pm, and we were still on the water at that time, but Jeremy assured us it was all good, and he even let all the boys have a turn on his lap to drive the boat, and he handed over the wheel to Martin for the final approach to the dock, so all the "kids" got a turn at the wheel). I have to admit I was surprised at this side of Jeremy, since what I remember of him from our childhood years is that he can be very loud and aggressive and was not always aware when other people were not having the same amount of fun that he was. It seems that in his later years, he uses all that energy to his and others' benefit (he was a master wielding his light saber and chasing the kids all around the yard), and is actually quite in touch with what other people were feeling (he was the one who calmed Brady when he hit his head), and now, on this boat trip, he was the one calmly navigating the water and helping us search for wildlife. It's so interesting to see my cousins all grown up.
Max was very excited to use his new binoculars and be the "lookout" for the boat. He asked me all sorts of questions about what a lookout might wear or where he would stand or what gestures he might make. He was sure a lookout would put his hand over his eyebrows (in a sort of salute).
We got back to the dock, and everyone else headed back to the campsite. Max and Otto really wanted time to just play by the water. The sun was getting low in the sky, and it was a really nice time to be there, throwing stones, looking for fish, collecting shells. I looked at my little boy sitting on the dock and just marveled at how fast the years have gone.
We headed back to the campsite for another dinner by the fire (hot dogs, chili, s'mores). The kids were having fun exploring the land in the dark, and Max was excited to have a game of "Duck, Duck, Goose" in the yard, but some of the kids were spooked that there were snakes about, and once that idea was introduced, they all got scared and wanted to retreat to the inside. So we hung out on the couch, and we all read Max's new Indiana Jones book (all the kids gathered around and helped us push the sound effect buttons). Incidentally, the Indiana Jones book had more than its share of snakes.
Max has been sick for the last several days, and he was disappointed to wake up on his birthday and realize he was still sick. He was also disappointed that he didn't feel any different than the day before. As we were getting ready for bed that night, he told me he didn't really like his birthday all that much (perhaps he and Brady both altered the status of the day to "worst day ever!"). And perhaps dressing up in Star Wars costumes is such an every day occurrence for him that it doesn't really seem like a party. One of my favorite parts of his birthday was at breakfast, when he said he wanted to try the Fruit Loops, and I said, "Of course, it's your birthday. You can eat anything you like for breakfast!" And he just laughed and said, "I can eat anything I want on any day!"
He said that next year he wants to have his birthday in Chicago. He didn't dwell on it, though, he just told me that and then proceeded to talk to me for a long time about all the thoughts that were swimming around in his head that night. As always, he seems to "wake up" in the late night (he was born at 9:05 pm, and it has always seemed like he's at his "best" between the hours between 10 and midnight). Martin and Otto were sleeping, and although I was also completely exhausted, I just had to smile at this sweet boy of mine. Of all days to rush him to try to persuade him to bed to be more on "my" schedule, his birthday is not one of them. We talked until he finally declared, "I've made myself tired now," and he fell asleep.
