Cora's Princess Cake Park Party

It's important to make clear from the start of this post that Cora is still not 4. She is 3. Solidly a toddler, practically still a baby. She is FOUR whole days from being 4. I just don't want you to be confused while perusing these birthday photos.

Still 3. Still basically a baby.

So, Sunday morning dawned hot and humid and not at all what I expected an outdoor park party on the 5th of November to feel like. Here I was, hosting my first party outside of my home since Landon turned THREE, and I could have just hosted a pool party after all.

But our sweet little neighborhood park has a pavilion you can borrow and since Cora refused to tell me anything about what she wanted to do for her birthday besides "eat chocolate cake," a free park pavilion 1/4 mile from home seemed like the way to go.

I went for a 10 a.m. start time - everyone is awake because we all have children and no one is crabby yet. I had donut holes (Cora's favorite), 80+ mini muffins I made on Saturday because I forgot what a pain in the ass it is to measure out teeny tiny dollups of batter over and over to fill the teeny tiny mini muffin trays, and fruit because even though Cora hates it, I felt guilty only serving varieties of sugar.

Next year, everyone gets a full-size muffin.

We had everything set up and ready to go with five minutes to spare when Cora suddenly yelled, "I have to go potty!" Claire's head popped up out of nowhere and yelled, "Me too!" And so James took the girls home and Landon and I and 2 unicorns greeted a bevy of princesses.

Cora returned a few minutes later, running with arms outstretched to greet her friends. Many important things were discussed among the royal court.

Then I heard Cora yell, "My Madddddyyyyyyy!!!!!" and run across the park. Thirteen-year-old Maddy, daughter of good friends and our Colorado vacation buddy, had been at the top of Cora's guest list. And because she is the sweetest teenager, she came! Cora was thrilled to her toes.

The kids ran around playing and being princessy and suddenly I heard "Landon got stung by a bee!" from the older boy wing of the party (one of them belonging to a close adult family friend who Cora also insisted on putting on her birthday list; it was an eclectic gathering that was somehow perfect for Cora). And sure enough, a flushed and clearly hurting Landon limped over pointing to a sting on his leg and motioning vaguely to his booty. I got him mostly out of the way of all the guests to partially disrobe and sure enough, a big, swollen, angry sting was right smack in the middle of his right butt cheek. Poor kid. Hurting, embarrassed, and can't even show off his battle wound. I had prepared for much, but had not at all prepared for bee stings. Luckily, Cora had known to invite grown-ups and that same family friend ran home to grab ibuprofen, benadryl, and baking soda. After all 3 he was considerably better, though definitely still sore and tender all day.

Obviously, after that, it was time for cake. For two months every time I mentioned Cora's party to her, the conversation went something like this:

Me: Cora! What do you want to do for your birthday party?

Cora: Have a princess cake!

Me: Sure! But what do you want to do for the party?

Cora: EAT my princess cake!

Me: Okay, but do you want to go somewhere to celebrate with your friends?

Cora: Yes, eat my princess cake with my friends.

Me: Okay, but do you want to do anything else at the party?

Cora: No.

She LOVED her tacky plastic-y princess cake (neighborhood Albertson's FTW), but when it was time for the big moment she turned toddler.

It was perfect. Pouting and refusing to acknowledge the candle (after loving her candles so much last year we had to re-light them several times and sing again), her best bud couldn't figure out what her problem was.

Thank goodness a drugged-up Landon was nearby to step in and blow out the candle for her. And then it was time to eat! Cora was back on board and attacked that cake like a LADY.

I adore the frosting smeared gloves.

Because we did want to have one other activity besides "eat princess cake," we decided to do pinatas for the first time. I filled them with the kids' Halloween candy after they went to bed Saturday night (best moment post-pinata-bust, "Mom! I got these candies for Halloween too!" What a crazy coincidence!!), James bought some rope, and a friend brought some bats. I turned to Cora to tell her she could go first and she ran to her brother for protection from yet another horrible tradition: the assault of a mythical creature.

Claire was also called in for counseling.

Cora could NOT figure out why anyone would want to hit a unicorn. And I must say, after seeing the visual, pinatas do look pretty weird. Not that any of her other guests had ANY problem beating them with a stick and scavenging for the spoils of war.

Then it was time for presents! Those were definitely a big hit.

Cora truly deeply loves every gift she got. She has danced with her new Tangled doll (she was dancing when I got home last night; "how long has she been doing that?" I asked Tara. "About two hours."), worn her new "'Rora" dress every minute she has not been sleeping or at school, and worked on her new puzzle three times (while wearing the 'Rora dress).

She has slept with all of her new princess Barbies every night and informed me very seriously this morning that "Mommy, I just cannot get dressed until I brush Princess Belle's hair." And tonight as I was making dinner I watched lovingly pushed her new Elsa baby doll around the house in her stroller while telling her "It's okay baby, we're going to go to Disenney Wrrld and you will get to see all the princesses."

We leave on Sunday morning, her real birthday, and someone (all the Lag Liv someones, really) is REALLY excited.