Next year, we're just having some ice cream and cake at home.
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Of course, I think we said the same thing last year.
Katie's seventh birthday was celebrated on Sunday at the Children's Discovery Center in Kaka`ako. After a few nail-biting minutes at 11:30 a.m. (the time listed on the invites) — the place empty, Katie pouting at the gate — nearly everyone invited eventually appeared. (Dad and Gayle barely squeaked in before the cake, but I think being trapped in their house by a sewage spill is a pretty good excuse.) Katie's cousins and neighborhood playmates made up most of the party, along with a few grown-up friends and relatives.
We were lucky to see the Berry clan (our third meetup in two weeks), our old neighbors Nicole and Martin (and their daughters Celeste and Natasha), and mom's friend Gwen (and her son Ian) — all people we always miss. We also saw Kayla and Alyssa, Katie's favorite cousins (second cousins, I think) on both sides of my family. But the real shocker was welcoming Jen's brother Mike and his wife Diane, and their kids: Erik, Alaina and Danielle (who was born two days after Alex). I think we've seen them four times since Mike was first stationed here two years ago.
The food was mostly catered via a moments-before Costco run, wherein I bought random food trays. Mom, on her drive in, picked up balloons, a basic cake and some frosting at Safeway. Jen did the decorating on-site. For all the stressing Jen and I (mostly Jen) did in advance of the party, it came together quite well.
The kids were the stars, and there was a lot of chasing and squealing. Just watching them made me sweat... though the still air and warm, humid day was a contributing factor as well. I think the adults were all quietly hoping the outdoor "party" would end quickly so the indoor, air-conditioned "tour" could begin. Fortunately, Katie also realized she was starting to melt, and soon called for the candles and cake.
We actually lost a good chunk of our group when we moved inside, due in part to conflicting birthday parties elsewhere. But there were more than enough kids left to storm the center, and for the next 90 minutes the grown ups tried in vain to keep up with the little people as they crawled into, climbed onto, and played with everything in sight. We were ably helped through our three-story adventure by Kehau, a staffmember who was incredibly patient and great with kids.
As the party wandered through the "Your Rainbow World" level, babies started to whimper and kids started to rub their eyes, signaling the exhaustion of fuel stores and the end of the festivities. We cleaned up (dad and Gayle, who opted out of the tour, gave us a great head start), exchanged hugs and promises to hang out sometime, hauled everything out and started the long drive home.
All three kids were snoring inside of five minutes.
![[ Cousin Jennifer and daughter Alyssa. ]](http://www.lightfantastic.org/gallery/albums/200501/30kparty06.thumb.jpg) |
![[ Neighbors Noah and Nathan. ]](http://www.lightfantastic.org/gallery/albums/200501/30kparty10.thumb.jpg) |
![[ Baz and Beckett. ]](http://www.lightfantastic.org/gallery/albums/200501/30kparty11.thumb.jpg) |
It was a great party, for Katie especially, and that's what matters. But I think we'll stick with gatherings of a smaller, simpler variety from now on.
Now, don't get me wrong, the Children's Discovery Center a fantastic facility, and a place I'm usually more than happy to visit. But, to put it bluntly, the center's attitude toward visitors is surprisingly cold, and its prices are painful.
Want to drop in on a lazy afternoon? If you don't shell out a hundred bucks or so (at least) for an annual pass, admission ain't cheap. And if you want to hold a party there? Yikes. Our invite list had to be pretty exclusive. And you're charged for your advance head count, not for the people who actually show up... so if six people flake out, you're out $90. Jen and I had to track RSVPs obsessively, sending cards and calling and revising our estimate almost every day.
But what rubbed us the wrong way most of all were the policies in place for group events. When you ask about holding a party there, they mail you a stack of paper, but barely a sheet of it is promotional or welcoming in nature. It's basically a collection of don'ts, can'ts, terms, conditions, and exceptions. It's pretty hard to get in the party planning mood when you feel like you're renting a truck or something.
The place is such great fun for kids. And, like Kehau, the staff on the front lines seem pretty warm. It's a pity the reigns seem to be held by joyless attorneys and accountants.
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Alex is teething. We pretty much missed out on this milestone with Zac, and it's been a while since Katie went through it, so I guess that's why it seems tougher than you'd otherwise think it'd be for a third child. He drools, he grabs and gnaws obsessively, and he has a tough time sleeping. I hate dosing him with Orajel, but sometimes it's the only way to stop the squirming and squealing.
(By the way, never rub your nose after applying Orajel. It's like extending that agonizing moment right before you sneeze, but with no payoff.)
When his gums give him a break, though, he's having a blast growing up. He stepped up from rice cereal to poi last week, and tonight, Jen insists he rolled from his back onto his stomach. He remains a distressingly mellow and quiet kid — a thoughtful, thick-thighed miniature zen master — but he smiles a lot (mostly at his grandma) and has a heart-melting laugh. Katie and our neighbor Annie seem to be the best at getting him to giggle.
Whether or not it's impressive or frightening, he and Zac are now wearing the same size diaper (size four, 22-37 lbs.). We've also started slipping him into his brother's shirts. He's a big kid, but growing lengthwise at an alarmiing rate, too. Last night, Jen had put him down to nap on the floor in the living room, and I thought he was Zac. When Zac walked up behind me, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Speaking of Zac, after months of hemming and hawing, Jen finally agreed to bring Zac to a speech therapist just to gauge where he's at, language wise. His appointment is next week, with the state agency recommended by my friend Peter (whose wife works there).
Now, he does talk better every day — I can make out full sentences all the time — but I'm just curious whether we should be trying harder to get him to articulate his words better. He communicates fine with us, so we know that a ten syllable mumble translates to, "I want to watch a DVD but mom said 'no.'" But I worry that we might actually be doing him a disservice by accepting "dada" for "Katie" and "hapaf" for "Hi-5" (a kid's TV show that Jen just reviewed). The mispronunciations are insanely cute, but just a little too common for my tastes.
Meanwhile, now that Katie is seven, I'm moving forward with various changes that she's been warned about for the past year.
The two biggies, from her perspective, are that she's going to have to learn to go to sleep by herself (right now, she insists Jen be present in the room, at least for five minutes or so), and she's going to have to start taking showers by herself (so far I've been bathing her and Zac together nightly). My primary hurdle, meanwhile, is to give her the first iteration of "The Talk."
I originally planned to start the "birds and the bees" stuff when she was five, but Jen successfully talked me out of it. Some might say that seven is still a bit early, but... well, I knew in kindergarten, and it definitely helped me avoid some pretty ridiculous myths that were passed around in elementary school. And from what Jen tells me she hears kids saying in her class, there are much worse things out there she could have in her head right now.
I'm still debating whether I need supplementary materials, or if the conversation is enough for now. I think most of the books my mom "accidentally" left around the house for me when I was 12 are just a bit too advanced. But I don't think her Barbie and Ken dolls are going to cut it, either.
I wasn't sure she was ready, or interested. But during one early chat, she asked, "Like 'Sex and the City'?" (Curse you, TiVo!) After a sneaky laugh, we were then able to talk a little about boys and girls and babies. After a few gentle queries, I was pleasantly surprised to see that she has some notion of "sex" already — if not the mechanics of it, definitely the social significance. She already senses there's a mix of specialness and taboo surrounding the subject... part of a broader awakening that includes more and more requests for privacy and curiosity about things like defining love and marriage.
The best part was, after a while she sighed and said, "Dad, I think I'll be ready to talk about this a little later." So she might not ready for "The Talk," but I'm happy that she will be able to tell me when she is.
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