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May. 22nd, 2012 10:24 amDelia's birthday party went well. We left home about noon, detouring to pick up one of Delia's friends who otherwise wouldn't have been able to attend. We got to the Hands On Museum at 12:30, right on time. The party assistant was waiting for us with a cart. We didn't really have that much to take in because we chose not to decorate. We had the cake and ice cream, the camera bag, a couple of boxes of juice pouches and an empty box for carrying presents home.
The rooms for parties are in the basement. The ceiling isn't very thick, so we could constantly hear pounding feet from upstairs. There were table set up in a circle with coloring sheets at each place and a cup of crayons for every two or three seats.
All the kids showed up on time, a minor miracle given all the confusion about just when the party was supposed to be. We decided to do the activity and the cake and ice cream first, then the tour of the museum. Delia chose to do a baking soda volcano, one big one as opposed to several small ones (the choice was offered). Her other two options were something involving rockets (Scott lobbied for that) and making slime (for a long time, Delia wanted to do that one. She'd done it at school and liked playing with the resultant goo).
I didn't actually see the volcano. The kids surrounded the table and were packed pretty tightly (there were thirteen of them, including Delia). They seemed to enjoy it. The party assistant had obviously done this a thousand time. She was very efficient, and she made sure that the kids got to help, all of them, at each step along the way.
The cake and ice cream went over well. We had a white sheet cake with white frosting and chocolate and vanilla ice cream. Several of the kids had seconds on the ice cream, and none of them seemed to care that the frosting was inexpertly applied (No matter what Scott and I do, the frosting tears up the top layer of the cake so that there are crumbs mixed into the frosting).
One of Delia's friends started feeling sick, so I stayed with her while Scott went with the tour group. The friend had her own cell phone and tried repeatedly to call her mother (her father is currently in Korea, so we couldn't try him). She cried inconsolably. I had no idea what to do. I don't know the girl well, and she's nine. I wanted to hug her and offer reassurances, but it felt wrong. She said she knew her mother was at home, so I called Scott and asked him if he could drive her home. Scott came down to get the girl, and I joined the tour. As it happened, the girl managed to reach her mother before Scott got her to the car, so Scott just had to wait for the mother to pick her up.
The tour was pleasant. The kids are old enough that they can be let loose to explore the exhibits without needing any help. They can turn cranks, build and destroy things, climb on things and so on. Basically all the adults needed to do was to count the kids before leaving each area. The assistant had a bell she'd ring to let the kids know it was time to gather. They were pretty slow about it, each time, so I think they were having fun.
We chose to have a longer tour with more time to play rather than allowing time during the party to open presents. If I had it to do over, I wouldn't go that way because several of the kids were genuinely disappointed not to see the present opening. I don't think they realized that it was a trade off for more time to play.
Scott dropped me and the ice cream off at home before he and Delia took her friend home. Once they were back, Delia opened her presents while I made a list so that we'd know who gave her what for the thank you notes. She's at an age where it's difficult to select presents. She got a lot of craft projects. I don't know how much the beads will get used (though some have already gotten scattered across the floor). The glitter tattoos that she can color in will probably get used for a while, up until she forgets about them. We'll see.
I forgot to bake muffins on Sunday, so it was a scramble to feed Delia breakfast on Monday morning. She has cross country on Mondays and so needs to be at school an hour early. That means there's no time for baking breakfast on Mondays. Fortunately, I still had the bagel I'd bought Friday morning (the fifth graders sell bagels every Friday to raise money for end of the year camp). Delia ate that.
The rooms for parties are in the basement. The ceiling isn't very thick, so we could constantly hear pounding feet from upstairs. There were table set up in a circle with coloring sheets at each place and a cup of crayons for every two or three seats.
All the kids showed up on time, a minor miracle given all the confusion about just when the party was supposed to be. We decided to do the activity and the cake and ice cream first, then the tour of the museum. Delia chose to do a baking soda volcano, one big one as opposed to several small ones (the choice was offered). Her other two options were something involving rockets (Scott lobbied for that) and making slime (for a long time, Delia wanted to do that one. She'd done it at school and liked playing with the resultant goo).
I didn't actually see the volcano. The kids surrounded the table and were packed pretty tightly (there were thirteen of them, including Delia). They seemed to enjoy it. The party assistant had obviously done this a thousand time. She was very efficient, and she made sure that the kids got to help, all of them, at each step along the way.
The cake and ice cream went over well. We had a white sheet cake with white frosting and chocolate and vanilla ice cream. Several of the kids had seconds on the ice cream, and none of them seemed to care that the frosting was inexpertly applied (No matter what Scott and I do, the frosting tears up the top layer of the cake so that there are crumbs mixed into the frosting).
One of Delia's friends started feeling sick, so I stayed with her while Scott went with the tour group. The friend had her own cell phone and tried repeatedly to call her mother (her father is currently in Korea, so we couldn't try him). She cried inconsolably. I had no idea what to do. I don't know the girl well, and she's nine. I wanted to hug her and offer reassurances, but it felt wrong. She said she knew her mother was at home, so I called Scott and asked him if he could drive her home. Scott came down to get the girl, and I joined the tour. As it happened, the girl managed to reach her mother before Scott got her to the car, so Scott just had to wait for the mother to pick her up.
The tour was pleasant. The kids are old enough that they can be let loose to explore the exhibits without needing any help. They can turn cranks, build and destroy things, climb on things and so on. Basically all the adults needed to do was to count the kids before leaving each area. The assistant had a bell she'd ring to let the kids know it was time to gather. They were pretty slow about it, each time, so I think they were having fun.
We chose to have a longer tour with more time to play rather than allowing time during the party to open presents. If I had it to do over, I wouldn't go that way because several of the kids were genuinely disappointed not to see the present opening. I don't think they realized that it was a trade off for more time to play.
Scott dropped me and the ice cream off at home before he and Delia took her friend home. Once they were back, Delia opened her presents while I made a list so that we'd know who gave her what for the thank you notes. She's at an age where it's difficult to select presents. She got a lot of craft projects. I don't know how much the beads will get used (though some have already gotten scattered across the floor). The glitter tattoos that she can color in will probably get used for a while, up until she forgets about them. We'll see.
I forgot to bake muffins on Sunday, so it was a scramble to feed Delia breakfast on Monday morning. She has cross country on Mondays and so needs to be at school an hour early. That means there's no time for baking breakfast on Mondays. Fortunately, I still had the bagel I'd bought Friday morning (the fifth graders sell bagels every Friday to raise money for end of the year camp). Delia ate that.
