i AM a mother of boys

I've had it easy as far as boys go. Don't get me wrong, having boys is tough stuff - they are loud, rowdy, and very personal hygienically challenged. But I don't have to play football in the back yard because I don't throw far enough. I don't have to play cars {or superheroes or star wars} because I play like a girl. I don't have to get up early every morning to fix their hair . . . just to name a few. That doesn't even include the fortune I could save on clothing and laundry duty if I would let the boys have their way - they would wear the same shirt, pants, socks, and underwear 365 days a year - without changing. See, easy stuff.

But today, I joined the world of boys. Today was Sam's birthday. He turned nine years old. Nine years of being a mom . . . N.I.N.E. Sam really wanted a party, I really did not. I have nothing against a party at say, Chuck E. Cheese - where the hardest thing I have to do is pay the bill. Unfortunately, 'Ole Chucky is a little young for our mature son. I tried the diversion tactic - promising him we'd talk about the party later. Of course, by later, I meant never. The thought of having a party with extra boys in the house is enough to drive me crazy. But Sam was persistent, and the loving mother hidden deep within me eventually caved.

And before I could stop myself, I uttered the words "What kind of party do you want to have?"

An Alien Party.

Not Alien like the cute Monsters vs. Aliens that just came out, that has all kinds of party supplies everywhere, that has premade cakes at the store. Not the easy kind of Alien.

Area 51 Alien.

You know the line from Cinderella . . ."It seems we have time on our hands. Time for vicious practical jokes." Sam is obviously not busy enough!

So . . . long story short {long story involving going to a million stores, a million times each to hunt down anything alien}, We pulled it off. We covered the windows with black trash bags. We stuck glow in the dark stars on the bags. The living room light bulbs were changed to black lights, and the dining room light bulbs were changed to green lights. We even stuck Area 51 warning signs on the front door.

Party decor - check.

The first thing the party guests did was create their own alien out of modeling clay. They had to stick to strict guidelines so it would bake properly. But they did it. And their aliens were very cleverly done, I might add.

The next thing was to decorate paper plates for a spaceship flying contest in the backyard. The game quickly evolved from who could fly their ship the farthest to who could fly it over the fence to the neighbor's yard so the neighbor's rottweiler could tear the paper plates apart. Fun stuff. {Dear neighbors. I'm sorry your dog became blind from Styrofoam poisoning. You keep us awake at night with your loud music while you exercise in the garage. And your little annoying dog pees on our pomegranate bush. Let's call it even.}

Of course there was pizza and soda - which would have been cleverly named if I thought the boys would care {or notice}.

And then came my favorite part.
Alien dissection.

I created some edible concoctions - and by edible I mean, not meant to be eaten, just not deadly if tasted - and gave the creations alien names. The boys had to stick their hands in the goo {which was covered}, and guess what it was made of. Here's what we had"
Alien Eyeballs - peeled grapes
Alien Guts - Overcooked Ramen noodles
Alien Skin - pieces of fruit rollups smothered in tapioca pudding
Alien Brain - a bath spongee, covered in carmel sauce
Alien Boogers - smashed banana
Alien Feet - banana peels with granola.

We had eight boys. Only five of the boys would stick their hands in the stuff. One of the five boys had an overactive gag reflex and had to stop. One of the three non participators had to step outside because the suggestion of body parts, with the visual of dripping goo was too much for his gag reflex. And one of the five made me gag when he started licking his fingers - and I knew what was in it!

For a parting gift, all the boys got a bag filled with Alien goodness. The best part was a sticky hand that we put a label on saying "Severed Alien Hand." Gross and totally boy.

After it was done, Sam came up and told me that it was his best birthday ever and it was an awesome party. So I did it. i AM a mother of boys.

Happy Birthday Sam! Thanks for making me a mother nine years ago. It's been quite the adventure, but I wouldn't trade a second of it!