Alex's birthday party.
Apr. 11th, 2009 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivkaAlex wanted a pirate party for her birthday.
I thought about planning a fancy birthday party with a two-month-old in the house. Then I thought about being a four-year-old who recently lost her only-child status, and I decided that Alex deserved to have a party in which we pulled out all the stops. My only sanity preserver: I told her she could invite eight friends, not the whole class.
This picture shows the pirate ship moments after I made it last night. It's a good thing I got a moment-of-glory shot, because by morning there was a distinct crack running all across the top of the cake, right behind the foremast. The crack steadily worsened as the morning went on. I tried to stabilize it with additional skewers, and we butted cans of soup up against the bow and stern to prevent them from falling off entirely. Eventually we managed to brace the cake with cardboard and plastic-coated wire, and in the last few minutes before our guests arrived I made another half-batch of icing with the last four tablespoons of butter in the house, and covered up the cracks. It looked great anyway:
How cool is it that the candles come out of the cannons?
We made a pirate ship (christened the Really Scary by Alex) out of a box covered with easel paper. Michael made a plank to walk, just a board elevated by a brick at each end. Most importantly, we hired our young pirate friend Scurvy Sarah to help out.
When the kids were all assembled, I read them one of our favorite books, The Night Pirates. It's about a group of "rough, tough little girl pirates" and the boy who joins their crew, and how they outwit a group of grownup pirates. My initial thought was "gee, I don't know if the kids liked the book, they were totally silent the whole time." Then I realized: they were totally silent the whole time. They liked it.
Then we had a treasure hunt. I had taken pictures of various things in our house (the boot rack in the foyer, the bathroom sink, the fireplace). I gave the kids a picture and had them find the right place; the next picture was hidden there. The chain of pictures led them to Alex's bed, which had a pile of little cardboard treasure chests underneath, each with a kid's name on them. Inside, they had cheap plastic pirate gear: eyepatch, spyglass, earring, and compass. Plus they each got five chocolate gold coins. They spent some time rigging themselves up like pirates.
Then Sarah taught them a pirate dance:
And they attacked the pirate ship using small round black balloons for cannonballs.
Finally, we played a game where they tried to hook pretzels using a pirate's hook I'd made by putting a candy cane through the bottom of a plastic cup. This turned out to be harder than I expected, but they all tried for a turn. And then it was time for cake, and then free play.
I had told Michael that the pirate ship would just be for the game, because it was too small for the kids to really play in. They disagreed.
That party was an incredible amount of work. But it was so totally worth it. It was tons of fun. Even for us grownups.
Edited to add: Alex wants me to include a picture of her birthday present:
I thought about planning a fancy birthday party with a two-month-old in the house. Then I thought about being a four-year-old who recently lost her only-child status, and I decided that Alex deserved to have a party in which we pulled out all the stops. My only sanity preserver: I told her she could invite eight friends, not the whole class.
This picture shows the pirate ship moments after I made it last night. It's a good thing I got a moment-of-glory shot, because by morning there was a distinct crack running all across the top of the cake, right behind the foremast. The crack steadily worsened as the morning went on. I tried to stabilize it with additional skewers, and we butted cans of soup up against the bow and stern to prevent them from falling off entirely. Eventually we managed to brace the cake with cardboard and plastic-coated wire, and in the last few minutes before our guests arrived I made another half-batch of icing with the last four tablespoons of butter in the house, and covered up the cracks. It looked great anyway:
How cool is it that the candles come out of the cannons?
We made a pirate ship (christened the Really Scary by Alex) out of a box covered with easel paper. Michael made a plank to walk, just a board elevated by a brick at each end. Most importantly, we hired our young pirate friend Scurvy Sarah to help out.
When the kids were all assembled, I read them one of our favorite books, The Night Pirates. It's about a group of "rough, tough little girl pirates" and the boy who joins their crew, and how they outwit a group of grownup pirates. My initial thought was "gee, I don't know if the kids liked the book, they were totally silent the whole time." Then I realized: they were totally silent the whole time. They liked it.
Then we had a treasure hunt. I had taken pictures of various things in our house (the boot rack in the foyer, the bathroom sink, the fireplace). I gave the kids a picture and had them find the right place; the next picture was hidden there. The chain of pictures led them to Alex's bed, which had a pile of little cardboard treasure chests underneath, each with a kid's name on them. Inside, they had cheap plastic pirate gear: eyepatch, spyglass, earring, and compass. Plus they each got five chocolate gold coins. They spent some time rigging themselves up like pirates.
Then Sarah taught them a pirate dance:
And they attacked the pirate ship using small round black balloons for cannonballs.
Finally, we played a game where they tried to hook pretzels using a pirate's hook I'd made by putting a candy cane through the bottom of a plastic cup. This turned out to be harder than I expected, but they all tried for a turn. And then it was time for cake, and then free play.
I had told Michael that the pirate ship would just be for the game, because it was too small for the kids to really play in. They disagreed.
That party was an incredible amount of work. But it was so totally worth it. It was tons of fun. Even for us grownups.
Edited to add: Alex wants me to include a picture of her birthday present:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Arrr, matey!
Date: 2009-04-11 10:27 pm (UTC)The only time I've ever done anything that elaborate was a Harry Potter party I threw for my son when he was seven. Let it be known that Hogwarts is made entirely from chocolate.
Re: Arrr, matey!
Date: 2009-04-12 12:21 am (UTC)Somehow I am not surprised. Do pictures exist?