And now . . . the rest of the story

So, the following post will likely not be printed in our family blog book, as I would hate for Joseph to read it sometime down the road and feel like I did not value giving him a magical birthday party. I am so glad that he had fun at Chuck E. Cheese, but I feel the need to temporarily document the rest of the story.

There are some things you do for your kids because you love them, not because you really want to.  Here is a partial list I came up with:

1.  Listen to/watch Barney.
2.  Eat at kid-friendly restaurants so the kids won't complain rather than the really good Thai restaurant down the street.
3.  Sit through certain animated movies in the theater.
4.  Read 10 Little Monkeys Jumping On the Bed every night for a year.
5.  Go to Chuck E. Cheese on a Saturday afternoon.  Or any time, really.

Given recent events, I am going to focus on #5 today.  Over the years, each of our kids has been enamored with a Chuck E. Cheese-type place, and each has had a birthday party at raucous kid-centric party establishment. And they have each loved it. And now I have done my duty by providing this rite of passage for each of my children, so I formally absolve myself of any guilt to ever set foot in Chuck E. Cheese again. Because I am so done with it.

Sensory overload. That's a good way to describe it. Blinking lights, incessantly loud sounds, rude and annoyed people packed into every square inch of space, a "birthday party table" which is crammed right next to ten other birthday party tables in one very loud room. Lines for everything.  Lines to get in, lines to use the bathroom, lines to use the games, lines to redeem prizes. If I wanted to wait in lines, I would go to Disneyland, where the ambiance compensates for the lines.

As I mentioned before, Dan wasn't able to be at the beginning or the end of the party, so Bailey came along to be my helper.  She and I handled the really messy parts of the party, like getting everybody checked in and set up to play, gathering them together from the games to eat the super-expensive-cardboard pizza we had bought, and waiting forever to help each boy redeem his tickets for incredibly useless prizes.  By the end of the party both of us were blubbering idiots. As we finally fought our way through the crowds and herded our group of five boys to the car, Bailey and I almost cried at the sight of fresh air and freedom. 

On the way home Bailey looked through her ipod and found a song by Kelly Clarkson. We blasted the music and sang along to the chorus all the way home (this was partially to cover the sound of five boys batting their Chuck E. balloons and Chuck E. plastic bottles together in the back of the car).

You think you got the best of me  

Think you've had the last laugh  

Bet you think that everything good is gone  

Think you left me broken down  

Think that I'd come running back  

Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!

Lest you fear that we made Joseph feel bad that we were so negatively affected by his party, rest assured that he was obliviously happy.

Before the party, we offered Bailey an incentive to help. Dan and I erred in not setting the terms of the incentive.  After the party she turned to me and said, "my price has gone up."  So, after a few hours of recovery at home, Bailey and I left the boys home building Legos and ventured out for some Payless Shoes therapy. Bailey tried on lots of heels that she says would never wear because they would make her too tall. But they looked great!  She finally settled on some cute plaid boat shoes.

Then we drifted over to Target, where we bought some delicious peppermint hot cocoa to warm our tummies on a cold, rainy day, and looked through the makeup displays.  It was a satisfying end to a super busy day.

And I'm not kidding that I'm not going back to Chuck E. Cheese. I have done my duty. In the words of Kelly Clarkson, I survived, so I must be stronger. And smarter.  So, take that, Chuck E. Cheese.