This weekend, Peanut had her 11th birthday party/sleepover. It turned out I didn’t need to
smoke nearly the quantity of crack I’d imagined worry thanks to my wonderful sister-in-law and nieces who came along to help keep me sane. It also helps that Peanut is mini-Martha Stewart. She cleaned, decorated, planned, and organized her party just the way she wanted it.
She’s always been a planner/organizer, but this last year or so, with all the upheaval in her world, it’s become even more important to her that she exert control over the things she can control. So, when we can let her have that control, we do. An 11-year old has so few things she can control, especially given her aversion to body piercings and tattoos.
We did have to step in and help her tone down the bossiness a bit with her friends, as it’s one thing to plan your party, but another to tell your guests how to participate in your party.
But, the best lesson from Peanut’s sleepover came from my younger niece. She walked out into the kitchen in her socks, slipped, and fell flat on her ass. She rolled over in hysterics, but didn’t get up.
Instead, she rolled onto her back again.
Peanut joined her.
And they made floor angels.
The next time life knocks you flat on your ass, laugh it off, roll over, and make floor angels. It’s even better if someone you love joins you.