Rescheduling the Mayhem

I'm a planner, through and through. I make meticulous lists of everything that I need to do. I update my calendar regularly. I keep a little notepad and pen in my purse just in case I think of something else (though, it's quickly being replaced with the Notes tool on my new iPhone).

At the same time, I do my best work under the pressure of deadline. Maybe my career as a news editor created that in me - or perhaps that's why I was a great news editor. (It's like that whole chicken-and-egg debate.)

So I should have known when I started putting together the mask crafts for Noah's birthday several days in advance that something would go wrong.

And, the wrong came in the form of chickenpox. On Paul.

Yes, my 30something husband has a childhood affliction. Apparently he scathed by without ever having chickenpox (or stitches, for that matter which is amazing considering some of the stories I've heard about him as a child).

So, my last-minute self kicked in yesterday as I frantically sent out emails and called everyone we invited to the party to un-invite them. I even had to call and cancel the cake order. (The cake for Mitchell's third birthday party was ordered at about 9 o'clock the night before the party, only after my mom asked what time she should pick it up! And, I must say, it was an awesome cake!)

Now I have a car full of cute animal plates, bubbles with adorable little monkeys and elephants perched on top, party blowers that match the cute animal plates ... all stuff that will have to wait until some other time.

I feel bad that my poor Noah Noodle doesn't get to enjoy his first birthday in full fanfare. After all, on his actual birthday, he'll be recovering from surgery. Always pleasant! (Luckily, he won't remember his unbirthday party or the surgery - the one perk of being his first.)

I was looking forward to a house full of family, friends and crazy kids - all running around, blowing bubbles, coloring their little masks, eating ice cream cake ... celebrating a birthday like you should! I can't have it next weekend because a. he might still be unbearable from the surgery; b. Audrey might still be unbearable from her surgery (not that we're scheduling things based on other children's schedules, but if I can swing it for as many of our friends to be there as possible, then I will); and c. we've been invited to a birthday party that same day at Chuck E. Cheese.

The next weekend is a possibility, but we'll have to play it by ear. Or eye. Or skin disease.