First, we make books. I need to fold and sew up 17 blank books for the kiddo gift bags that I'm putting together. During this time, I'm periodically asked to make additional blank books for my own kiddos, who are digging through my cardstock stash and apparently finding gold. The baby dictates a book that goes something like this: "Now a cat. Now a cow. Now a horsie. Now a pig," and the big kid dictates a book about a pony princess who sails the ocean in search of polar bears. Illustration is crucial:

The kids are working so happily that I sneak off into the study to stitch up my 17 blank books, yet something seems awry...

Obviously, what fun is a creative and engrossing activity engaged in on your own at the living room table, when you can run off into the study and squeeze into the three inches of space in between Momma and the wall and run little dinosaurs up and down her arms while she tries to sew?
We did books and blocks and lunch and nap after that. But while the baby (I can still call her a baby, right? She is only two-and-a-half) napped, the big kid and I made some melted crayons with a new mold that I got on big sale--I've been itching to try it out. Although I'm sure it's an enviromental nightmare, I LOOOOVE silicone baking molds. I don't actually bake food in them, but they're terrific for melting crayons:

And so after an entire day, here's the party stuff so far:

We have all 17 blank books in the back, the birthday kid's birthday bunting, TWO birthday crowns in the making (the baby insisting upon her rights as the baby, I suppose), and some little tchochkes from Learning Treasures to fill out gift bags. Coloring pages made from the party attendees' names are still in process at my computer, manilla envelopes for the birthday kid to decorate for gift bags are with the birthday kid, the party music mix is being compiled in my iTunes, and a citywide search is underway for the best price for Crayola 8-packs, on account of I do NOT use RoseArt.
And that's the party hero. Party foul--At 6:30 pm, getting ready for Soup Night at another friend's house, the big kid throws a big screaming fit so I, who am exhausted anyway, lie down on her bed and invite her to lie down with me and snuggle. She lies down, sings the continents song to herself a few times, plays with her fingers a bit, and falls soundly asleep. Apologetic phone call is made.
Curse you, Daylight Savings Time!!! Curse you, MyManMitch!!!
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