Birthday parties part 2

 Things I am going to try not to talk about

• Being a vegan 
• Yorkshire puddings
• My weight
• My job
• My views on mumming, smug mums, yummy mums or other types
• Being a member of clubs that rhyme with Wlimming Sworld
• Anything that involves berating my long suffering husband

DISCLAIMER - All of the above is a lie - I just wanted to lull you into a false sense of security...

For those of you foolish enough to actually read anything I write in my addled state (see I drank a 1/5th of Vodka dare me to drive?) We went to a birthday party today - yes another bloody one. Now I did learn from the last one in that I accidently on purpose didn't tell the small person until today at the very last minute - once again party time falls in nap time - but hey 2 hours of peace sleeping / napping or bonding with kids = two hours of peace either way.

Husbeast and I have an agreement - I'll go to the bloody parties and fake enthusiam so long as he agrees to drive us so we arrive late and accidently pick us up early. This worked for the previous party however this one involved couples - you know the couples that actually wanted to pro-create and spend time with their spawn, the end result being that I looked like the one mother who has no mum friends (true) or any significant other (untrue) and needs to be chivvied up the entire time....

We arrive - crotch fruit despite an hour earlier asking who even the kid is whose party it is (great start) abandons her shoes, unicorn horn she insisted on wearing and any item of clothing that made her looked cared for and leaves me to fend for myself. Thankfully birthday child's parents have had the foresight to provide a not engaging parents bench for people like me. I am not going to lie - I regressed to the millions of times I never got picked for PE teams while sitting on those bloody benches and resorted to my I'm up myself please don't engage me in conversation face. Which normally works but your 2021 post lockdown parent (other than me) clearly feels the need to engage. I had previously had a conversation with my mother about why I hate parties which goes roughly along this dialogue:

Me: I don't even like my own kids why the heck would I want to hear about other peoples kids?

Mum: It's a bonding experience

Me: I don't care - I don't want to inflict my kid on you don't do it to me?

Mum: well thats how mum friends works

Me: seriously all kids are total assholes- Its not a bloody competiton - you know who I would consider making mum friends with?

Mum....

Me: anyone who doesn't want to talk about their kids. Anyone who says little bobby is an asshole, I bought vodka just to get through this shit show. I mean come on all kids are shit - I don't care if he plays a harp of does the splits - I want honesty not a bloody parade

Long story short - No one wanted to talk about anything except how amazing their kids were :(

Despite my best attempts to be anti-social and sit on my own the bloody demon child turns out to be miss congenialtiy 2021 (takes after her father) and every bloody mother is forming a queue to tell me how amazing she is... I take refuge outside with the dads who want to be there as much as I do - I fake conversation about sports in which I have no interest in but mildy more than children.....

Remeber how I said I wouldnt talk about certain topics above? yeah I lied.... Something new in parenting in the 17 years I didnt make a child  - parents of parties became feeders, I felt mildly smug in the fact my defense mechanism is I'm ONE OF THOSE people - god dam when did people get modern - mother of birthday girl shrieks with enthusiam  - I HAVE VEGAN FOOD . My mother finds it highly amusing that I hate people in my own home but yet she bought me up to be somewhat polite so before I know it I have a plate full of delightful and not Wlimming Sworld delights plus my demon spawn inviting everyone to a birthday party that isn't for another 6 months.

I also have to confess that attending these events give you a whole new perspective on your devil spawn.... First and I'm kinda sorry not sorry... my child is a freak of nature - depsite being scarily premature she was taller than every single kid there by a whole head (she gets that from her dad) also she is key in the spreading of disease - To watch my child kiss every single child on the lips was an education in itself (we have work to do on consent). I kid you not it was like something from Alien, as in the facehuggers - she grabs them by the face and smacks her "loving kisses" on said individual wether she likes them or not. 

By the end of the party I have some how agreed to mummy nights (I don't know what this is but it sounds horrifying) I've agreed to some kind of crotch fruit bonding at soft play and I have phone numbers I hope I will never have to ring. To add to injury apparently Seaweeds mummy is the mum to know (I really need to work on my don't approach me face) I'm accosted by mummys desperate to identify themselves as such and suches mum (I don't care - tell me you your real name) and twice mistaken for my mother - who I love but dude I'm not 60 just yet.

Amongst all of this torture my Wlimming Sworld consultant decides to text me to remind me to stick to the plan.... yeah the plan only works if you stay at home and don't encouter yummy feeding I have supplies for all mums...I didn't get a bloody sticker for two weeks despite following your bloody plan to the bloody letter so I'm not expecting one this week....