Ava was invited to three birthday parties this month. The first two were busts. One involved her brother not coming home, causing us to miss the party. Bad deal. The other you will remember as the Chuck E. Cheese fiasco. Today, was the third. Given the past track record, I was just assuming it wouldn't happen. But we mapquested the location and took off with gifts decorated with glue and glitter to attend the mani/pedi salon birthday party.
I not only have trepidation about Ava going to parties because they seem to end badly, but I also can't help but worry about how she'll make out at these events. Not only does she have some mobility issues, but she has incontinence issues as well. And these are just not issues 7-year-olds (and some adults) can tend to comprehend. I wish I could protect her from the realities of life - activities she might struggle to do, places she might struggle to go, and people who don't understand. But I know I cannot shelter her; that's just not reality.
So, we walk up to the house and I feel anxious for her. Maybe she's just not ready for a another birthday party, I agonize. But the front door opens and she's wisked in by a giggling girl and handed a spa robe and slippers. I meet the birthday girl's mother and she assures me Ava will be fine. "She may need some help getting up and down stairs," I say. "Oh, we are having everything on this first floor so Ava doesn't have to handle the stairs. We want her to feel comfortable," the mom noted. Wow! This woman had taken the time to plan her party so that my daughter would have a good experience.
I get a double hug from Ava who hesitantly walks into the living room with the other girls. I thank the mother and say I'll be back in 2 hours. "You have my number?" "Yes, but she'll be fine."
As I walk back to my car I am filled with joy for Ava. Finally, a birthday party she will enjoy.
You so aptly describe how, as moms, we ebb and flow with their emotions. I am so happy to hear Ava had a nice time
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