Halloween Party

I used to host parties all the time, back before we moved into this house and had Elsie.  We've been here five years now.  Time to get my act together and throw a party!

Devil-Cat Elsie gobbles up a hot cider doughnut (bought from a local orchard -- I don't fry things myself, it would only set off the smoke alarm)

Halloween is just the best.  I love kiddish activities and costume making and pumpkin flavored sweets.  How wonderful to re-engage with these traditions under the guise of providing entertainment for my daughter and her friends. 

This year, I planned a party that was just neighbors and neighborhood park attendees (plus one very special family from the opposite shore) -- you know, to keep it small.  Hub looked at my list and told me quite sternly that he highly recommended I reduce the list by 2/3, to spare myself the frazzlement of throwing such a big party.  I nodded gravely, and then completely ignored him, sending out ten invitations to ten local families -- all of whom responded, "Yes!" 

Hooray!

I planned a hearty afternoon meal and plenty of activities for my beautiful garden and porch.  And then, in typical Kate-party fashion, hurricane Sandy decided to attend.  (Hub's and my wedding had to accommodate a similar uninvited guest -- tropical storm Cindy.)

So we stuffed the giant party into my tiny living room, folded up the dining room table, and spread craft supplies all over the floor.

When the oldest kid guests did not show (one forgot, and two were so ill-behaved over the weekend that they were kept home as punishment), the planned activities fell apart, leaving a house full of 1 to 4-year-olds to go crazy with bags upon bags of pompons.  Note to parents: pompons are inexpensive, easy-to-tidy objects more entertaining than most toys.  They go very well with a play cooking set, and can be thrown about indoors without any worry of harm to person or precious family heirloom.


The one activity that I stuck with was face-painting.  After turning Elsie into the devil-horned cat that she requested, and painting all the gregarious children's faces and a few shy ones, I finally stopped trying to bat little grabby hands away from my pallet and handed the brushes over to a fleet of tiny artists. 

Lesson learned: painting a child's face is asking a her to hold perfectly still for a few minutes while you do something she can't see or enjoy.  She might not like it.  Letting a child paint your face will keep her entertained for as long as you can tolerate the treatment.  Face-painting, it seems, should really go this other way more often.