Last weekend, we had Vivian and William’s birthday party at a karate club. So desperate was I to get it over with, I held it two weeks early. If you’re a regular reader, you likely already know how much I despise birthday parties.
But I gave in and hosted an extravaganza at a karate centre that is as close to our house as Russia is to Sarah Palin.
The party went well enough. There was the usual kid in tears (my offspring), beverage incident (no drinking water to be found after a 1-hour karate lesson), and embarrassment of gifts (raising the profit margins of Toys R Us).
What I really want to remember, however, are my kids in their roles as Tigger and Eeyore.
Vivian as Tigger
Tigger, in a rare motionless moment
Enter Vivian, our Tigger, waiting by herself at the karate club entrance, ready to pounce on guests before their cars come to a stop.
“Thanks for coming!” she’d holler out the door as they hobble up the sidewalk, gift bag in hand.
“Can I take that for you?” she’d continue. Vivian is capable of carrying a conversation all by herself.
“You can put your shoes over there,” she’d add, then pantomime what to do.
“I hope you enjoy yourself,” she’d say, then head back to the door to await the next guest.
Like Tigger, she vibrates with enthusiasm and energy.
William as Eeyore
The Island of Eeyore
No pouncing for William. Like the cliche, he goes to the beat of his own drum.
Ever since he was one, we’ve called him Outside-the-Box boy. He is – and always has been – unconventional. My friend’s mom christened him an “old soul” when she cradled him as a babe.
He is our Eeyore.
When the karate instructor had all kids seated on coloured squares facing him, William pivoted ninety degrees. His sideways position afforded him a view of both the instructor and his friends.
When the karate instructor instructed the kids to kick the upright cylinder mats, William leaned his back against one and repeatedly “kicked” it with his bum.
When pizza was served, William ate it upside down, his specialty.
He is our Eeyore.
Vivian is our Tigger.
We wouldn’t want them any other way…
Or my name isn’t Christopher Robin.
*
Photos from Flickr (cc) Christene S.
Leanne Shirtliffe is the mother of seven-year-old twins, Thing 1 and Thing 2. She lived in Asia for eight years, which turned out to be a build-your-own-family adventure. Leanne writes for Nickelodeon and pens a humour column for The Calgary Herald. She is represented by Jill Marr of the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency in California. 
Lovely post – as I have learnt to appreciate as I never did before becoming a Mother, nature wins over nurture every time and essentially we are the people we are, no matter what. So William is Eeyore and Vivian is Tigger. How lovely – but somehow I can’t quite see you as Christopher Robin
*sniff*
Well, if that is not the sweetest thing I’ve ever read, I don’t know what is!
beautiful. love the bum kick and the greetings from Tigger!
I want to kick the upright cylinder mats.
Mostly off-topic, but a little on topic…We have Winnie the Pooh animal crackers (a Costco sized tub of Pooh animal crackers. I walked into the kitchen the other day to find my 2-year-old with the tub of cookies on the floor, trying desperately to open the lid. I asked her what she was doing, and the response was, “Eating Pooh.” I’m still giggling.
My middle child is a blend of Tigger and Eeyore – unconventional in a bouncy, zesty sort of a way, whereas my eldest is more Christopher Robin’s mother – quiet, serious and sensible
Lovely post. They are all their own little souls, aren’t they.
And, yes, kids birthday parties are the armpit of parenting. Whatever happened to just eating hotdogs in the basement or yard, playing hide-and-go-seek, and calling it a party? I intend to lead a renaissance movement for such parties.
That sounds like fun. We do the combo birthday with my 2 boy since their actaul birthdays are only 2 weeks apart so I know what you mean about the gifts. One year there were so many the boys and I gave up opening after 5 because it was hot and overwhelming. I thank gosh they’re still young because we still get away with parties at home but my 3 year old recently asked for Chuck E Cheese. I am going to hate birthday parties soon, I ‘m sure.
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