I like small parties. I like opening a bottle of wine (or five), walking around and chatting while we munch on food of questionable healthiness.
But, as a perfectionist, I don't like to plan/throw parties. I am always worried SOMETHING will go wrong, and that my guests will never forgive me for whatever it is I messed up: not enough food, not enough seats, inviting someone I shouldn't have, bad taste in music...
So now I find myself throwing a sixth birthday party, seven months too late. My stepson didn't have a sixth birthday party because he was moving into a new house at the time. My husband and I have taken up this particular mantle, even though we have never done this before.
Most people get to build to birthday number six. The first few years are families coming together, maybe a handful of children the special guest's age. By the time the child gets into preschool, the party-thrower knows what the kid generally likes and dislikes when it comes to soirees.
I didn't get truly involved until my stepson's third birthday. My husband and I had not started dating yet when he turned one, so I missed that. I don't remember why I wasn't at party number two. By party number three, we were helping with purchasing things, but not planning.
I want to throw this kid the best un-birthday party I can, because he's awesome and he deserves it. We're hoping to surprise him (who wouldn't be surprised about a party well after one's birthday?), and that he gets to see a lot of his family and friends together in one place, something that is quite a feat given how many branches are involved.
If I don't survive this adventure, please send someone to feed my cats.