The sleepover party. Every mom knows their kids are eventually going to ask for one, simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the day. After all, for every long and arduous night you'll spend hosting a slumber party, there's (hopefully) another night when your child will be invited to pack up their sleeping bag, stay at another poor mom's house, and keep her up way past her bedtime. While some moms avoid sleepovers at all costs, others recognize that they're part of the parenting game and find ways to survive them (and maybe even enjoy a moment or two).
My 7-year-old daughter just started having sleepovers, and I have to say, they're a mixed bag. On one hand, it's pretty sweet to see your kid go bananas with her friends (my daughter said her first slumber party was the best night of her life); on the other, they kept me up until almost midnight, then woke me up at 6:30 a.m. demanding breakfast and forcing me to pretend like the prospect of making pancakes sounded fun. If you're about to host a slumber party, here are 17 thoughts that will probably run through your head during the oh-so-exhausting process.
Flashing back to your own childhood sleepovers, you decide you're going to make this a night your kid and their friends will remember forever.
You head to the store to buy all the junk food you never let your kids eat on their own. After all, this slumber party is special, so why not provide the marshmallows, popcorn, chips, candy, and cookies they've requested?
Five minutes after the guests arrive, you remember that a slumber party is a very different experience now that you're a mom than it was when you were a kid. Your eardrums are threatening to burst as you use your happy voice to ask the kids to take it down a notch or 12.
Realizing that the screaming will not subside, you start brainstorming places you can set up the party that will be as far from your bedroom as possible. A basement is ideal, but any room on a different floor is acceptable. You gently suggest everyone moves their stuff and their bodies to that spot.
Already seeing the damage they're inflicting on your home, you suggest they redirect their energy to a board game, a cooking project, or, best of all, an outdoor activity.
You were fine serving up snacks one and two. Snack request 34 is a little less fun.
Oh, hell no. You remind one guest about her early soccer game, another about the party her parents are taking her to tomorrow, and your own kid about the wrath you'll rain down on them if they keep you up all night.
You've seen them run laps around your house for hours, and they don't seem to be slowing down. You're simultaneously jealous of their energy and mortified that you agreed to host this slumber party.
It's not that they want to hang out with you, but they definitely want you available to serve them. You begin to scope out places to hide from the food, water, and blanket requests.
It's 10:30 p.m., and no, they may not have a combination of M&M's, popcorn, Skittles, and marshmallows. Or six Sprites. Or a scary movie.
You never thought this moment would come. You head to the kitchen and down a large glass of wine before heading to bed.
It's barely light out, but the crew is requesting pancakes with whipped cream, chocolate chips, sprinkles, and blueberries, and you might drown yourself in the syrup.
You check your phone, praying that parents have texted you saying they're on their way to pick up their kids.
You see cars pulling into your driveway and yell at the kids to pack up their stuff ASAP. This party is o-v-e-r.
As the last guest leaves, you breathe a sigh of relief, proud of yourself for surviving another slumber party without permanently scarring your child or their friends.
Two minutes later, your kid asks if they can have another slumber party the next weekend. It doesn't take you long to answer "absolutely not."
You put on a movie for your kids, hoping they'll pass out from the exhaustion of the sleepover, and head to your bed to collapse, praying your family will take pity on you and let you snag a nap.