the five stages of throwing a toddler halloween party

Stage 1: This is Gonna Be Amazeballs

A Toddler Halloween Party sounds amazing. Chicken would tear that shit up. And I think his friends would have fun too. We should throw one. A Halloween party, I mean. Not one of his friends. Ha. Dangling modifiers! Always good for a laugh.

(after 5 hours on Pinterest)

Oh my God, I can TOTALLY do this! Like, no problem whatsoever.

Let me start a new document so I can keep all my totally amazing ideas in one place.

A costume parade, a pear cider recipe, pumpkin-shaped cookies, oooh a ghost piñata so cute! I should fill it with organic raisins, band-aids, and hair clips. Should I do a storytime? Can 30 costumed two-year-olds handle a storytime? And where should we even do this? My house is too small and old and weird-smelling.

Whatever, I'll just invite everybody real quick and say "Location tbd!"

Evite sent! Awesome! This is going to be SO EASY AND FUN!

Stage 2: Online Shopping and Overconfidence

Cute Halloween cups? CHECK.

Snacks? CHECK...ish. I bought some pretzels at Target. That's good for now. I'll do the rest later.

Activities? I'll figure that shit out later.

Adorable handmade Etsy crafty shit? Oh CHECKITY CHECK CHECK.

I should probably go do a load of laundry now. I'm in amazing shape for this party anyway.

(one month later...)
Stage 3: Awake From Mild Amnesia

Oh right, I was going to throw a Halloween party. When is that again? Oh right, next week. Right. Right. Haha... well... hm.

(opens Evite page)
(forgets Evite password. It's not "evite" so am totally stumped.)
(resets Evite password. To "evite.")
(logs into Evite)

Stage 4: Fuck Me (also known as Reality Sets In)

Fuuuuuuuck me.

40 people are coming.

Don't panic.

I made notes on this, right?

No need to panic. I specifically remember outlining some activities.

I don't have 40 people coming and only one bag of pretzels to show for it. I wouldn't do that.

(opens Microsoft word document)

ADORABLE shortbread witch hat cookie recipe here.
Location? Figure out later.

Should I read a story?


Okay, calm down. These are two-year-olds we're talking about here. They like dirt and sticks.
Calm down.
Don't panic.
Just because you have 40 people coming to... somewhere... in seven days... with 2 hours to fill... and nothing to do once they arrive... except eat 2 pretzels apiece... that doesn't mean you're fucked. Right?

I'm so fucked. 

The toddlers are going to lock the doors and tear me to pieces like the cats in that creepy Got Milk commercial.

Stage 5: Laser Focus and Lowered Standards

Calm the fuck down and pull your shit together. For God's sake, you have a bachelor's in creative writing and theater. You aced not one but TWO finals on how to sit, stand, and breathe. You can throw a motherfucking party for twenty 2-year-olds.

So what we need to do is make a to-do list, and then get okay with knowing this party is going to land  at just barely right around good enough.

Get a bucket of balls, a huge thing of bubbles, a box of cookies, a package of paper towels, an economy-size box of toilet paper, 50 orange latex balloons, and some pots and pans. Go outside and pick up some pine cones.

No. There will be no goodie bag.

No. There will be no craft.

No. There will be nothing to Pin.

I will accept that my friends might not like me anymore once they show up at the library to find me handing out paper cups of apple slices and letting the costumed toddlers mill around an empty meeting room and hit each other with their foam costume props.

I will never, ever do this again.

I will definitely do the exact same thing again next year.


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