Happy Birthday to ya, happy birthday...

Having children puts you in really weird positions, ones you could never imagine BC, not just even imagine but even begin to contemplate as a tiny germ of a possibility. First off is the mad bad world of baby groups - talk about culture shock, those places are seismic on the psyche. And yet they lure you back time and again as adult conversation with brain numbed ladies who are as worn out and sleep deprived as you is oddly seductive when weighed up against the alternative of no conversation at all. If you're very lucky you'll even get to know other mothers names and not just that of their offspring, I spent months knowing people as 'little Ethan's mum' or the lady from playgroup with the small baby. And if the gods are really smiling on you then you'll meet mums (friends BC are obviously excluded from this) who you genuinely like and could actually be friends with outside of the whole baby deal - that is a rare find and one to be treasured. I can count them on one hand so am either really anti social or incredibly discerning.

So, as my wee ones gained a few years it felt like progress to leave behind playgroups and that whole weird baby centric world that I took part in without being part of - it felt like I'd done my tour of duty. Why did no one warn me about  kids parties then? Oh horror I may have finished one tour but there are clearly a lot more on the way and I'm just not ready for the terms of combat. Now my wee man is older the parties have got more complex and we've just done the first of the 'don't know a soul here, not even the child who invited us' parties. Weird doesn't even begin to describe it. Being back at work I just don't meet other mums at the nursery, we all drop them off and scoop them up at random times dictated by the whims of employment. So, Saturday we're all gathered in a room and 80 % of people seem to know no one especially well so bond over 'lifestyle snap' - oh you wear prada - me too - lets chat - that sort of thing. The other 20% do know each other and form tight cliques which permit no outsiders. Lifestyle snap in that particular time and place was never going to work in my favour; so it was with relief I spotted the availability of vino plonko for grown ups, filled up a glass and secured a seat by the window so I could at least see the outside world and remember it existed.

cupcakes at dawn - the arrival of the status party

Now while I admit to imbibing a few glasses to get me through I can honestly say I was amazed - nay shocked - at the enthusiasm with which the yummy mummies hit the bottle. As cheeks got pinker, hips got looser (oh yes sir I can boogie so long as its ooh-ooh-ooh I want be like you-oo-ooo) and perfect smiles slipped away to reveal the frazzled souls beneath. One particular lady who upon arrival was cradling her darling and cheering on spotty-frocky-wocky-doodah-clownface an hour or so in dashed past me gently shrieking 'I will thrown him out the window' as her darling one made off with the birthday present stash that wasn't his. That was nice. We're all the same under the designer frocks.

Still it was hard work. Kids, cake and party tricks all equate to total mayhem which is not eased by the social stonewalling of parents with agendas. Maybe seeing the Rum Diary the night before had tainted my reasoning but it was a challenge not to stand up and shout 'what kind of fuckery is this?' Hunter would have been pleased I'm sure, not convinced the other grown ups would have seen the funny side. Thankfully not all kids parties will be thus - with friends the deal is entirely different and you don't even need a glass of vino to get through it as I discovered on the Sunday. So hurrah for that. The landscape of parenting may be shifting again but at least I know I can always rely on my friends for a good time.