It’s our eldest daughter’s 7th birthday tomorrow. 7 seems really quite grown up, doesn’t it? Like she’s not a teeny little girl any more, and is getting scarily close to 10. Which means she’ll almost be in secondary school and then she’ll be moving out. My baby is about to move out! *hysterical weeping*
She’s not so much having a party, more a gathering amongst her friends at our house where they’ll watch a movie, have pizza, throw popcorn at each other and spill nail varnish on my coffee table.
So not too much of the pressures of throwing a full-on party style party with games and screaming children (except her little brother maybe), so why am I dreading it?
I guess I’m sort of looking forward to it, but I have this big lumpy stressy thing lurking in the pit of my stomach. We’re not really like any other family, are we? Her friends all know I’m in a wheelchair, although how much she gets asked about that at school I don’t know. I am completely comfortable around my own children, and to them anything I do physically which is, let’s face it – a bit odd, goes unnoticed because to them it is normal for me. But with other children in the house, most of whom I haven’t really spent much time with, I feel like I’m going to be stared at by little girls from school and it’s quite a familiar feeling. They’ll gawp at my floppy hands and my picking up a mug of tea with both of said floppy hands… And they’ll notice they were staring and feel awkward, and they’ll think to themselves “why does Amélie’s mummy sound different?” I’ll come over to the sofa and say (after psyching myself up) “right girls, can you go and wash your hands before food please?”, and they’ll look at me like I’ve just thrown up on myself.
Maybe they won’t think that at all. There’s a big chance I’m being completely pathetic at stressing about being ‘the mum’ at my daughter’s pizza party. How ridiculous is that. Amélie won’t care at all. All she cares about is the fact that she gets to have school friends over ON A SCHOOL NIGHT, and they’ll all be really giggly and excited. I don’t want her to ever feel embarrassed by having me as her mum.
I really hope she has a good time. I hope it’s everything she wants it to be and next year mummy will be a bit more organised several months in advance and book her a swimming party. Better start mentally preparing for that about…now.
To my tiniest 5lb 10oz of first babyness… Happy birthday for tomorrow. Love you baby.
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