One for the record books

 Noah's 12th birthday party is going down as the worst so far.  Sarah made him the above Angry Birds cupcakes.  She and her friend Chloe decorated them.  So far so good.  I reserved the Proctor Recreation Center over a month ago.  Sent the check, called to confirm the date.  Packed up drinks, decorations, games, goody bags, 2 vehicles full of kids. So far so good.

 Arrive half an hour early to decorate.  No workers there to let us in.  No problem.  I assure the kids they'll be here any minute.  The above sign on the door is still amusing enough to me at this point to take a picture of it. 

 The boys help haul all the stuff up to the door and do what boys do while they're waiting.  I admire the architecture of the building and reassure Mike that we didn't need to make a Plan B, because the workers would be there any second now.  I confirmed the date twice, after all. 

My parents and two nephews arrive.  Then our best friends and their daughters.  The adults with phones start scrambling for alternative venues. It's really, really cold, but most of the kids aren't complaining.  It's now long past the 2:00 start time, and even I have given up hope.  We pack up all the stuff and all the kids and caravan back to our house, having found no other alternatives available. 

We haul all the stuff into the house.  There are kids packed in the house with nothing to do.  The bathrooms aren't even clean.  I was not expecting to have 23 people at our house.  I start getting cake ready to serve.  The phone rings (although I don't hear it over the din), and someone shouts, "It's Proctor Rec Center!"  The lady is very apologetic.  She thought the time was 3:00 instead of 2:00. She says she's there now and that we can come back.

We load up all the kids and most of the stuff again (I had already thrown some decorations and a game downstairs and put the matches away, so that stuff didn't make the final trip) and make the thirty minute drive back there again.  I'm feeling extremely testy and stressed.  Mike and I are in separate vehicles, trying to contact all the parents.  The kids are mostly content and resilient. They're discussing whether or not they believe in hypnosis and if the surface tension of the water would kill you if fell off the bridge and various other boy things, while one of them offers me driving advice.

 We haul the stuff in, and the adults help me decorate and set up, because my heart is really not in it anymore, and I don't even have all the decorations.  We meet up with some other friends who arrived late (or early, depending on your perspective), and the kids start playing in the gym.  I force myself to take a couple pictures for Noah's sake (I'd just as soon forget this day myself) while still trying to contact parents. 

In the end, Noah kindly said that he had a good time, and I hope the guests did.  The best I can say about the day is that I'm thankful for great friends and family who put up with me, and for my very special 12-year-old who makes it all worth it.