1 Mother 2 Another

Monday we went to our local Arboretum, and
they were offering free face painting and storytelling and more.
Maddie and Cora both got their faces painted like a daisy, and
Maddie was so entranced by the idea that she announced we needed to
have a Daisy party on Tuesday. She wanted to dress up like a daisy
and decorate the house with daisies.


I should say here that we have impromptu parties probably more
regularly than most people – every couple of months or so.
Planning the decorations and getting ready is half the fun, and
Maddie and Cora love celebrating the simple things in life. So if I
can give my daughter a party, I’ll do it.


Plus, it kills a few hours with one blow.

I had a few problems: first, I don’t
have a houseful of daisies, and second, I don’t have costumes
for the girls to dress up like daisies. So after some sweet talking
and the power of suggestion, we morphed our Daisy Party into a
Flower Party. And instead of a breakfast party, we moved it a lunch
party, leaving us all morning to get ready. And instead of dressing
up like daisies, Maddie and Cora agreed to be fairies who live
amongst the flowers.


I’ve always got a few tricks up my sleeve, mostly because
I’m the person who can’t throw anything away. So I had
a couple dress-up costumes stashed away for upcoming birthdays,
which I willingly sacrificed. Maddie became Tinkerbell, and Cora
was the sweetest pink pixie you ever saw, with iridescent wings and
a crown of flowers and that sweet little pot belly. Both girls got
to see the costumes but weren’t allowed to try them on until
the next morning.


Tactical mistake, as many of you can guess: Maddie was up about an
hour and a half early with excitement. I laid down the ground
rules: breakfast first, then errands, then fairy costumes and
decorating and flower party. The girls flew through morning
preparations and finally got to the fun part of the day: setting
up.


With my two fully-dressed fairies helping me, I set to work getting
the room decorated. Maddie and Cora strew our fake Gerbera daisies
artistically about before deciding to put them in a vase for the
table. We put flower rings on the table, and stacked some fake
yellow daisy heads in a glass bowl for the girls’ small
table. And then came the piece de resistance: the night before
I’d cut out a giant daisy from construction paper, individual
petals and stems and leaves and all. I used painter’s tape to
attach the thing to the wall, one petal at a time, and Maddie was
frozen with anticipation waiting to see what it would be. As the
flower emerged she kept squealing over and over again,
“You’re doing a GREAT JOB! This looks AMAZING!
You’re doing a GREAT JOB!”


We topped the flower off with a silk butterfly (I told you, I throw
away nothing) taped to look as if she was landing on the flower for
a little nibble. And then I got out my real ace in the hole.


Back when I was pregnant with Maddie, I wandered into a Williams
Sonoma (remember, still didn’t have kids and had the time and
cash to do such things) and was browsing their clearance area. I
came across a pan that had pancake molds in the shape of daisies
– you could make about eight pancakes at once. It was marked
down to three bucks, and I had a dreamy, hormone-induced vision of
my beloved husband tenderly making daisy pancakes for his little
girl some Saturday morning. I bought the thing, got it home and
realized it was probably more trouble than it was worth and never
used the thing.


Until yesterday.


I worked the girls into a fever pitch about what we possibly might
have for lunch, then triumphantly brought out the daisy pancake
pan. They actually screamed, a scream akin to an Elmo sighting.
What can I say? I know I’m totally cool.


So we had pancakes for lunch, shaped like daisies, amidst a
breakfast room festooned with flowers, and the girls had the luxury
of eating in costume – something usually forbidden. The
pancake pan was a lot easier than I’d expected, and we sat
contentedly munching in silence. I watched my two fairies smile and
giggle together, eating their extra-special daisy pancakes and
celebrating absolutely nothing with a really great party.


And life was good.