Christina M. Currie: Who slumbers at slumber parties? |

Christina M. Currie: Who slumbers at slumber parties?

We kept our promise to Katie, by the skin of our teeth and not without a lot of stress, a lack of sleep and a few sore, aching bodies.

But against all odds, we were moved into our new house in time for her ninth birthday.

Well, sort of.

We missed her birthday by two days, but we were firmly entrenched for her birthday party, and that’s what counts.


By firmly entrenched, I mean that we had most everything we needed for daily living in the house, but there wasn’t exactly a place for everything, and everything definitely wasn’t in its place.

In fact, there still were boxes.

Lots and lots of boxes.

And, despite that fact (this process has evidently robbed us of our sanity) we not only plunged forward with the party, we extended the invitation to overnight guests.

Yes, despite the fact that we had one measly box of random food packages and four extra children.

And the next night, we had three.

There’s a good side and a bad side to having that many children around. The good side is that they mostly entertain one another, and aside from the screams, you hardly even know you have extras until they’re hungry.

The bad side is twofold.

First, with that many kids, there’s bound to be drama (heck, when you have girls, all you need is one for there to be drama). I lost track of who was whose best friend at any given moment.

Katie sunk into one of her “I just want to be alone moods,” so our guest, Andy, and Katie’s not-quite-eight-year-old sister, Nikki, discovered they had lots in common.

Once Katie’s mood snapped, she joined in again and Andy switched allegiances, leaving Nikki to ask them sadly, “I guess you guys don’t want to be my friends anymore.”


But things move so fast in the lives of pre-teens, that soon they were all together again.

I’m learning, as difficult as it is, that there are some things that must work themselves out without my divine guidance and intervention.

If you know me, you know just how hard that is.

So, the second downside is the house. Oh my, what havoc six kids between the ages of 5 and 10 can wreak. I was kind of thankful for our not-quite-moved-in state. There’s not much damage that kids can do to boxes.

And the rooms that showed some signs of occupancy? Oh my. My careful organization was turned upside down. I’m still missing a decorative bath sheet, the fountain in the pond points sideways instead of up, and though they swear they weren’t sliding down the banister, the heater at the bottom bore the unmistakable signs and won’t quite clip back into place.

I’m thinking we broke the house in good.

And I suppose that’s the best way to do it.

Despite everything, it made my heart sing to see my girls giving tours of their new home, quite proud of the accommodations and the fact that it was “theirs.”

Which means, months of hard work, fast food and frankly, all out neglect, paid off.

They deserved to celebrate the near conclusion of this project.

And so do we. I’m thinking that a sunny beach is the best way to do that.

Hmmm :

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