And so last week my baby boy turned one. As always, the party didn't even come close to the gala celebration I had started planning somewhere in my second trimester. Which turned out to be a good thing.
While I am already legendary for taking impractical ideas further than they should ever go, even I was rather impressed with my performance this time around. I could barely keep up with all the brilliant ideas zooming and crashing around my head. Maybe we should have a carnival theme....or go insane and have a true - blue Mallu theme, with the baby in a lungi! (No, for the three happy minutes that I dreamed of this I did not find it weird at all. Now I wonder what was wrong with me.)
Finally I decided on a Rainbow theme because that's what I'm tripping on right now, and I suppose its a fair enough guess that I won't be having a rainbow themed 30th birthday. So for about a month, a typical early morning conversation between my husband and me sounded something like this:
Me : ''Babyawakeupwakeupwakeup.......I have the perfect centrepiece for the buffet table!''
The Husband : ''zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz&^^*^^$^%$%$"$£!"!!$$% !!'
Me: ''We'll have a chocolate fountain....''
The Husband : ''Its 6:25. On a Saturday morning. You woke...''
Me: ''And every now and then we can make it spew Gems. You know, a rainbow coloured chocolate fountain!''
The Husband : ''How old are you again?''
Me : ''Eh?''
The Husband : ''Who's going to get a chocolate fountain to throw out Gems instead of chocolate?''
Me : ''I don't know, but I'm not the one who loafed around an engineering college for...''
The Husband : ''And what buffet? I thought you were making a traditional Kerala spread. You were asking me to hunt for banana leaves in Delhi!''
Me : ''See?! You don't love me anymore!''
The Husband : (snooooore. grunt.)
And so April passed calmly enough thanks to my saintly husband. But the first week of May was a whole different story. Husband happily skipped off to San Fransisco, thrilled to be putting a few continents between him and a rapidly unravelling wife. And I sat back to enjoy watching my baby twist his newly arrived grandmother around his tiny finger.
All went swimmingly well until two days before the event. Just as my house was filling up with two sets of grandparents and an uncle my water purification system went bust, the guest bathroom door got jammed and my precious, antique sofa set completely fell apart! Add Delhi temperatures to it, and it wasn't a pretty picture. And then two of the guests called to say they couldn't make it. That was bad - I had only invited three guests.
Dad : ''Wait... 3 guests? You throw a birthday party for a kid and only invite three of his grandparents' friends?''
Me : ''Aaah. Hmmm. Eh?''
Dad : ''What about his friends?!''
Me : ''He's 1 year old! I'm his best friend and I'm right here!''
Brother : ''Well its a good thing anyway. We don't have sofas, remember? Or drinking water! Hah!''
By then I was a depressed, morose mess. I had dreamed of this day for so long now, and had desperately wanted it to be picture perfect. Absent guests and broken sofa sets were never part of the lovely dream.
But then I slowly acknowledged that my baby really couldn't care less about any of this. His party had started two weeks ago when his grandparents arrived to pamper him senseless. For two whole weeks he had people who adored him fly down from all parts of the country just to get him to drool over them. He was the hero and it appeared that nothing could sabotage that.
And so I got down to enjoying what turned out to be a party to celebrate one year of parenthood and grandparenthood. A party we threw ourselves for exceeding our own expectations.
It was better than anything I had planned. It was perfect!
While I am already legendary for taking impractical ideas further than they should ever go, even I was rather impressed with my performance this time around. I could barely keep up with all the brilliant ideas zooming and crashing around my head. Maybe we should have a carnival theme....or go insane and have a true - blue Mallu theme, with the baby in a lungi! (No, for the three happy minutes that I dreamed of this I did not find it weird at all. Now I wonder what was wrong with me.)
Finally I decided on a Rainbow theme because that's what I'm tripping on right now, and I suppose its a fair enough guess that I won't be having a rainbow themed 30th birthday. So for about a month, a typical early morning conversation between my husband and me sounded something like this:
Me : ''Babyawakeupwakeupwakeup.......I have the perfect centrepiece for the buffet table!''
The Husband : ''zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz&^^*^^$^%$%$"$£!"!!$$% !!'
Me: ''We'll have a chocolate fountain....''
The Husband : ''Its 6:25. On a Saturday morning. You woke...''
Me: ''And every now and then we can make it spew Gems. You know, a rainbow coloured chocolate fountain!''
The Husband : ''How old are you again?''
Me : ''Eh?''
The Husband : ''Who's going to get a chocolate fountain to throw out Gems instead of chocolate?''
Me : ''I don't know, but I'm not the one who loafed around an engineering college for...''
The Husband : ''And what buffet? I thought you were making a traditional Kerala spread. You were asking me to hunt for banana leaves in Delhi!''
Me : ''See?! You don't love me anymore!''
The Husband : (snooooore. grunt.)
And so April passed calmly enough thanks to my saintly husband. But the first week of May was a whole different story. Husband happily skipped off to San Fransisco, thrilled to be putting a few continents between him and a rapidly unravelling wife. And I sat back to enjoy watching my baby twist his newly arrived grandmother around his tiny finger.
All went swimmingly well until two days before the event. Just as my house was filling up with two sets of grandparents and an uncle my water purification system went bust, the guest bathroom door got jammed and my precious, antique sofa set completely fell apart! Add Delhi temperatures to it, and it wasn't a pretty picture. And then two of the guests called to say they couldn't make it. That was bad - I had only invited three guests.
Dad : ''Wait... 3 guests? You throw a birthday party for a kid and only invite three of his grandparents' friends?''
Me : ''Aaah. Hmmm. Eh?''
Dad : ''What about his friends?!''
Me : ''He's 1 year old! I'm his best friend and I'm right here!''
Brother : ''Well its a good thing anyway. We don't have sofas, remember? Or drinking water! Hah!''
By then I was a depressed, morose mess. I had dreamed of this day for so long now, and had desperately wanted it to be picture perfect. Absent guests and broken sofa sets were never part of the lovely dream.
But then I slowly acknowledged that my baby really couldn't care less about any of this. His party had started two weeks ago when his grandparents arrived to pamper him senseless. For two whole weeks he had people who adored him fly down from all parts of the country just to get him to drool over them. He was the hero and it appeared that nothing could sabotage that.
And so I got down to enjoying what turned out to be a party to celebrate one year of parenthood and grandparenthood. A party we threw ourselves for exceeding our own expectations.
It was better than anything I had planned. It was perfect!
