Tomorrow is Fiona’s third birthday, which seems impossible, but here we are on the cusp of it despite my unwillingness to accept the reality that she’s growing up.
I have a gathering planned for the weekend, but I haven’t planned the first thing for said gathering. This, unfortunately, is not unusual for me. I have good intentions, but I procrastinate like no other. What’s even worse, I think I have procrastinated more with her, (child number two) than I did with Grayson. Actually, I know I have.
It’s like second child syndrome. Don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about. When you only had one child, you planned their party two months in advance, you had their Halloween costume, and yours, bought (or even made) as soon as Starbucks started serving Pumpkin Spice lattes, and every piece of clothing was neatly organized in their nursery that you spent countless hours perfecting before their birth.
With the second child, you still plan on doing all those things, but somehow they don’t fall into place as easily. When Fiona was two weeks old, we moved into a new house, so she had no nursery at all. (On a side note, moving with a two week old is not something I would recommend if you wish to remain seemingly normal those around you.) It isn’t that you love your second child any less, but reality leaves you needing a team of people to take care of all these things you were once capable of orchestrating yourself.
Come to think of it, I could use a party planning committee, a maid, chef, and maybe someone to follow them around and take their picture while they’re busy being adorable.
Of course, all this is unnecessary. My kids have no idea that I haven’t planned anything, and they won’t realize it when the party happens either. They won’t notice if the napkins, plates, and cups aren’t coordinated to absolute perfection. They won’t notice that I didn’t wash the base boards before our family came to visit. They won’t notice any of those things. Fiona won’t know that I took longer to plan what Grayson wore on his first Christmas than I did on planning her third birthday party.
What Fiona will notice is that our family and friends have come to show her they love her and that they want to celebrate with her. She will know that I love her and she will get to see and help me make cupcakes the day of her party.
I have come to realize that life doesn’t have to be perfectly planned to show people that you love them. I had to realize that, otherwise I would feel like quite the failure. Instead I feel like my kids love me and I love them. I find more joy in the every day mundane tasks than I do the events we plan.