On Saturday we held a party. Now, you’d think as a Diplowife, I’d be a practiced and efficient hostess, but not so much. As we were out of town for Pudding’s actual birthday, this celebration came two weeks late. This would be fine, were it not for the fact that it was now a week before Christmas. As a December baby, for Pudding the whole thing just clumps together, and as this party approached it became clear that holding a party this close to Christmas was just a bit confusing.
As usual, when our guests first arrived, Pudding became upset and very clingy. We always have a 20 minute period where she needs to adjust. As time went on, she settled down. She happily made a craft with the other children, and enjoyed all the food, we had separate tables for allergic and non-allergic foods, which worked surprisingly well. Pudding opened her gifts with glee, and had become so comfortable by this point that she happily went around giving hugs and thanking our generous guests. Before long she was frolicking on the floor. I was touched by a couple of our friends saying how well she was doing. It is always nice when her efforts are recognized. It is particularly welcome when people who don’t walk in our shoes try them on for a while. Our friends had taken such great care to choose gifts that Pudding would love and be able to use. I truly appreciate the thought and effort that went into their choices.
I served cake, but opted not to sing Happy Birthday. The reason I gave was the whole too-close-to-Christmas-confusion thing, but a more honest reason is that I couldn’t find the candles and had no time to get more. See, told you I was a poor hostess. Nonetheless, we did have a sing-song. As was clear to all by the grip she had on her new Ernie doll, not to mention the endless repetitive questions about said toy, Pudding has a new special interest. I only wish I’d been able to capture on video the entire room spontaneously bursting into the Rubber Ducky song. Everyone celebrating her passion was such a special moment for my girl. Our girl.
I’ve talked before about how being a spectrummy parent can make me feel a disconnect with others, like a stranger amongst friends. It is equally true though, that I’m gratified beyond words by the way our friends will show us that we aren’t walking this journey alone. By Pudding’s next birthday, we’ll likely be living on another continent, but there will always be room for the people I’m honored to call friends. And if they come to visit, you can guarantee I’ll throw a party. Hopefully my hostessing skills will have improved by then!