From the editor

party princess

March 3, 2010

I promise not every editor blog will be about my little girl, but some have asked me how the big party went. . . so here we go.

We woke up to a BEAUTIFUL day, perfect weather for a picnic by the beach. Then the phone rang. It was the Parks people warning me that Long Bay Reserve, where I’d booked and paid for a picnic spot for the party, was closed due to the impending Tsunami warning created by the earthquake in Chile. Closed until further notice. Sorry, she said nicely as I gulped and thought of the pristine white ezy ups I’d ordered from Carlton’s party hire, the 65 cupcakes my sister-in-law ordered from The City Cake company for the cake tower, the wine we had chilling in chilly bins, the chickens I’d roasted the night before, the millions of buns waiting to filled with chicken or ham, the decorations, the goody bags I’d lovingly filled the night before, the parcels I’d wrapped. . . and so on. A lot of work had gone into this event and now it was in jeapordy.

We swung into action and consulted with family. Over the next two hours we argued between varying public parks to hold it - Western Springs Park (too crowded, can’t get a park), Cornwall Park (too big - how would everyone find us?), The Domain (too busy). I was reminded of that saying, ‘too many cooks’ as everyone’s opinion varied… until we settled on Little Shoal Bay.

Yes, another potentially bad spot given the surge of water heading in our direction.

But it faces SOUTH, I said to those in disagreement. The water has to get past the bridge. We’ll go next to the tennis courts, across the road, a long way from the water.

You’ll have to pull the plug, said my mother in law as time marched on and it was nearing 11am - the time we had originally invited people to join us. NO, absolutely not. No way, would I pull the plug when I had 65 cupcakes, two ezy ups, a trestle table, chilly bins full of booze, chickens roasted, games made up, goody bags beautifully presented with handwritten notes tied on with ribbon. No, no, no!

So Little Shoal Bay it was. At 11am my husband and friend raced to the park to set up the ezy ups, while my mother, Coco’s godmother Jill and I finished making fruit kebabs and ripping leaves off lettuces. A multitude of texts were sent to let everyone know the new time (12pm) and new destination. Coco and I raced to the park at 12.15pm and bet the first guests by ten minutes.

It went perfectly. It looked beautiful. The party girl (completely unaware of the drama that had been unfolding around her all morning) was a dream child. She dazzled in her pearls (yes a very impractical birthday gift from her parents - her father got many dismayed looks by his colleagues at work who clearly wonder how we’ll top that year on year), and pretty frilly dress.

At 2pm I realised the birthday girl had barely eaten a proper lunch and although we gave her a bot, she needed to eat some solids. Then the (cup)cake came out. Let’s give her a taste of chocolate, we said laughing… yes… it went down a treat. She gobbled it down and was probably thinking, ‘why have you been holding out on me? what is this delicious substance?’. She didn’t seem to need a sleep for a couple of hours after that.

But what’s a party if you don’t misbehave and break a few rules?

Next year - will be small. Just her friends. I might theme it. Maybe butterflies? Have it in a garden, with an ezy up and some cupcakes and…. just kidding! I hope I can reign myself in. The problem is I do love to organise a good party, I love Spotlight, I love making things.

At 3pm as we were packing up and the numbers were dwindling the parks people rang to let me know the Reserve had opened again. Thanks, but no thanks, we had a fabulous party anyway.