Travelingjenny

We had a birthday party for Tess on Saturday at a local park, and things didn't turn out exactly as I'd hoped. The weather was crummy — completely gray and in the low 50's. The nice spot I had picked overlooking the ocean was besieged by gale-force winds, so we were forced to hunker down under a picnic shelter. The kids still had fun blowing bubbles, playing wiffle ball, and getting their faces painted. In fact, it seemed like everyone was having a pretty good time, despite the less than ideal weather, until it was cupcake time. 

I stood behind Tess as everyone sang to her, and halfway through I decided to walk around to the side of the table to take a photo. That's precisely when she got completely freaked out by the all of the people looking at her, and she started to melt. I couldn't quite get back to her before she collapsed face down on the picnic bench, crying. It took her a good fifteen minutes to recover, and then she could only muster enough energy to sit on my lap and eat her cupcake and ice cream. I had to hold her for the rest of the party. 

So there you have it — a very public parenting failure. Why didn't it occur to me that my just-turned-three-year old might not enjoy being sung to by a large group of adults and big kids? Why didn't I hold her, or at least stay next to her, for support? Tess has already forgotten about it, but it's going to take me a while to get over the feeling that I ruined her party for her, despite my best efforts to make it special. On the upside, this will probably be a funny story to tell when she's an outgoing, attention-loving teenager. At least I hope so.