It started with just one DVD. Yes, just one, and The Boy was hooked. (It's THAT addicting.) It then progressed to a different DVD every time we visited the library, dance parties to burned CD's in the living room, singing along in the car, trivia during dinner,purchasing our very own collection, and then we discovered the ultimate: our cable provider allowing us to access them (insert loud chimes while singing "AHHHHHHH" here) ON DEMAND!!! I knew we may have had a problem on our hands when he began pronouncing the word "car" as "cah", and "party" and "potty" became interchangeable. (well, they ARE Australian!). It seemed life couldn't get much better. I'm talking of course, about a crazy addiction to none other but THE WIGGLES.
So when it came time to start planning for the grand event, I could think of no better way to send my baby into year 3 than to throw him a huge Wiggly Party (and yes, this blog will be chock-full of Wiggles references. I apologize in advance if you don't get them. You're really missing out.)
Apparently, my child is one of the only ones left on the planet who is so in love with the four singing gentlemen in brightly colored shirts. The party decor is nowhere to be found. As in discontinued, gone, not in any store. Anywhere. (Well, except for on their official Australian website. I love my son. I really do. But not enough to spend 85 million dollars ordering Australian party decorations.) So instead, I opted to spend a mere 83 million ordering them from Ebay. Hoop-de-Doo, I was about to stamp,stamp,stamp, clap,clap,clap, and wiggle my hips just like that when I found them! The plan was finally coming together.
So I went ahead and reserved a park pavilion. Not one of the giant ones or anything. Just a nice shady spot with tables where people could come find relief from the sun. After all, we had been getting record high temperatures during the entire month of May. So there was not a chance it could (gasp) *rain* on that day, right?!?! The invitations were sent, the food was ordered. There was no turning back now. We were all getting excited to point our fingers and do the twist with the Birthday Boy.
No matter how much I plan, I always end up running around like a crazy person at the very last minute. I get these wonderfully fantastic ideas in my head and then drive myself insane trying to execute. Like the cake, for example. I thought it would have been so cool to cut a cake in the shape of The Wiggles' logo, frost it using exact colors, and then outline it with rainbow cupcakes (frosted of course in the signature colors of red, yellow, blue and purple). Well, for starters, making rainbow cupcakes, while they may be cool, are VERY time consuming. Especially when you have to make and frost 40 of them. And they can't really be made to far ahead of time for fear that they will go stale. Not to mention the frosting, while also cool, is VERY messy. And it must be the perfect consistency or else it will melt. So I had that going for me. I honestly thought that I was ahead of the game this time. The balloons, banner, gift bags, stickers, pinata, and streamers had all come in exactly on time, and were waiting patiently in a bag on the table. The 50 pounds of potato, pasta, and fruit salads (yummy, yummy) had been made earlier and were waiting patiently in the fridge. So all that was left was the cake. The only problem was that I am the opposite of artistic, and it was 10 o'clock at night ("all I have left to do is frost, how long can that take?" I foolishly said to my husband when he asked what was left to be done). Luckily, he only muttered under his breath for a couple of minutes as I trudged in sheepishly to ask him to draw me a Wiggles logo that I could transfer on to the cake. I think the muttering may have had something to do with always waiting till the last minute, or not letting anyone ever help with stuff.... I'm not really sure.
And so began the Great Frosting Project. And the (gasp) *rain*!!! And so it continued. Somewhere lost in a land of crazily bright frosting in approximately 7 different shades, I created cupcakes, cupcakes, and lots more cupcakes. And listened to rain, rain, and LOTS more rain. Sometime around 1 in the morning, I realized that my party (ahem, I mean, my son's party) was supposed to be starting in just a few hours. And then it started raining in the kitchen. How could this be happening?!?! Oh wait- no- those were just tears.
I stumbled in to bed some time later, with an array of frosting splatters still stuck to my hair, wrists, elbows, and probably my face. I fell asleep dreaming of park pavilions floating away like the friendly pirate ship rocking in the sea. Morning came approximately 7 minutes after I shut my eyes, and The Boy almost peed himself when he opened his first present- the Buzz Lightyear that actually shoots the lasers! "Is today my happy birthday?" He asked. "Can we go to my party now?" I looked out the window at the near flood conditions. Seriously, what were we going to do? Our house was neither big enough for 40 people, nor did we really want it to be. We could have it anyway and then change our phone number so that no one would be able to get in touch with us to tell us their kid caught pneumonia, or we could take Mom and Dad up on their offer to save the day (again!) and host it at their house, which was only about a mile away from the original park site.
So I turned myself into Anthony Wiggle , and loaded a party in to the back of my car. Soon the house became Wiggle heaven. People were dressed as their favorite Wiggle, and all the kids had access to as many juice boxes, chips, candy necklaces, and of course cupcakes, that their little bellies desired.
Outside, it rained. It poured. It thundered and lightening-ed. And inside, the kids laughed. They played. They sang and opened gifts. And they could care less about the rain. I watched my son have an amazing time surrounded by wonderful people.
And then, just like that, it was over. We looked at all of his fabulous gifts and rehashed the day's events. Two days later we went to the library. I walked over to the movie section and said, "Would you like to pick a new Wiggles movie?" And just like that, it was over. He looked at me and said, for the very first time, "No thanks. I'll pick a different one." Whoa. Wasn't expecting that one. Nor was I prepared for the feeling it left. My Boy doesn't want the Wiggles? Today, it's the Wiggles. Tomorrow it'll be, "no thanks, I'll sleep by myself" and then, "no thanks, I'll just drive myself". And just like that, it'll be over.