My kind of party

"Laid-back" and "kid's birthday party" don't normally appear in the same sentence, but that's what it was. Evyn and Ezra had another joint celebration this year as she turned 6 and he turned 5. And their parents are still keeping it low-key. Good for them, because once you start hiring clowns and elephants, there's no going back.

For me anyway, the party had all the ingredients that make a fabulous time:

• An exclusive guest list: My kids, grandkids, and myself
• Delicious food: Homemade pizza and birthday cake
• Fun entertainment: Jumping on the trampoline under a beautiful sky

A few guests were missing—my 14-year-old grandson, my son-in-law, and my husband. But other than that, we had the core group. Four adults and four children turned out to be the perfect ratio for spreading out the concierge services that children require.

When I entered Zach and Kelly's house, I was greeted not only with happy children wearing birthday hats, but also with the heady smell of bacon cooking in the oven. Oh my. Zach made the most delectable pizzas using split french rolls for the perfect crust and bacon for the perfect topping. Good-bye, pepperoni. We are officially over. And to borrow from a Taylor Swift song, "We are never, ever, ever, ever, ever getting back together."

Kelly spent hours the day before making a three-layer cake of different flavors, with vanilla icing between the layers and chocolate icing covering the whole thing. Add a side of Bluebell Homemade Vanilla, and we were so enthralled with what we were shoveling in our mouths that we barely said a word. Then 3-year-old Sara blurted out, "This cake is delicious!" After she had eaten most of it and was chasing down crumbs, she told the cake, "Come on, let's get this going." You've got to love a girl who talks to her food.

Evyn and Ezra had some unusual requests for gifts, and it was quite satisfying to be able to get them raincoats and rainboots instead of toys. When Angy had asked what they wanted, Ezra said a ruby and a crystal, and Evyn said flowers. She specified three daisies and three roses that were fake, one daisy and one rose that were real, plus real roses for her mom. Angy did a great job of complying with their wishes, within reason of course. Kelly didn't get roses, and Ezra's jewels were the "chaos emeralds" of different colors in the Sonic Hedgehog action figure set. He carried around his "rubies" all day.

With absolutely glorious weather, we spent the afternoon outside. The kids continually rotated between jumping on the trampoline and running around the yard. We have to get them on and off the trampoline, so Zach and I were continually lifting kids. (Kelly and Angy mostly sat on the patio and chatted, getting a little well-deserved mom rest.) I also got on and off the trampoline a lot myself because the kids kept wanting me to jump with them. A bonus of all this activity was absolution from guilt over my calorie consumption.

Unfortunately, my jumping caused excessive and unstable movement for the little ones. When Evyn took a fall and jammed her face, she cried and laid all the blame on me. I sat down and held her tight, offering words of sympathy and tender caresses. Her head was on my shoulder with her face turned away. Kelly came over to assess the situation and discreetly let me know about the hint of a smile on Evyn's face. So that turned out to be an enjoyable moment—Evyn pretending to be hurt more than she was so I would comfort her longer. With pleasure, my girl.

After that, the kids wanted to sit along the edge of the trampoline and just watch me jump. I have no idea why, but I'm glad they want me to join in their play. To their amusement, I jumped as high and as long as I could while they demanded, "Higher, Nana, higher!"

Zach and his neck harness

Zach came out of the house wearing only his shorts (low-key party, remember). It was entertaining for me to watch my son do sets of 280-lb farmer carries around the yard (like in strongman competitions) and 35-lb neck raises. I don't think I'll be adding any of those to my 10-lb kettlebell workouts. But I've made what I consider to be good progress over the last year and a half, so I flexed my quads and invited Zach to give them a squeeze. "Wow," he said, "you really have been working out."

After getting confirmation that he wasn't being facetious, it became another favorite moment of the day. I'm sure Zach's remark stemmed more from being surprised than impressed, but even so, it was like having a blue ribbon pinned to my chest. I've been flexing my quads all week.

It really was a near-perfect day. Out of all the favorite moments, I'll conclude with just one more. When I was about to pull out of the driveway, Ezra ran to my door to give me one last hug and say, "I'll miss you, Nana."

Oh yeah, it was definitely my kind of party.


Sara, Evyn, Ezra, and Christian

Pinky promises

I promised in my first post that not every one would be about grandkids, but I didn't say the next one wouldn't be. And since this story involves a ton of fun with no money and no toys to speak of, I think it's especially appropriate after the toy excess of Christmas.

My two little blondes, Evyn (5) and Ezra (4), arrived for a sleepover as the sun was going down. They wanted to play outside, but I told them we'd have to wait until tomorrow. So they went to my office, which doubles as a playroom on the weekend, and began playing with the junk in the toy box. Ah, Nana's toy box. Inside that plastic container is an old collection of giveaway items stamped with logos, along with a few cheap toys I actually bought. All of the grandkids have more toys at home than they know what to do with, but Nana's crummy little toy box has an inexplicable, enduring appeal. My kids and their spouses must surely be jealous.

Evyn and Ezra love doing crafts, so they grabbed my tin of odds and ends—leftovers from teaching children's Sunday School and sundry other "these-might-be-good-for-something" items. They made several refrigerator magnets that looked like something Jackson Pollock might have created if, instead of paint, he used markers, stickers, foam letters, and rhinestones. Afterward, I tucked the kids in my king-size bed, started a Nick Jr. video, and went to clean up the magnet mess. (Now don't you be judging me for not making them help.)

Ezra appeared in the doorway and, tapping his fists together excitedly, said, "I can't wait to snuggle with you, Nana!" As he ran off, the scraps fell from my hands back to the floor, and I went to climb in bed between the kids. During all the snuggling and talking, Evyn went to the living room to say goodnight yet again to Robert. She informed Ezra and me that she and Poppy said their "prays." At her request, Poppy prayed that Evyn wouldn't have any bad dreams and that it wouldn't rain tomorrow so we could play outside. God answered in the affirmative. Evyn had a giggling fit while she slept, and we had glorious weather the next day.

The kids woke up early, while it was still dark. The first thing both of them said was that they love me. Good morning to me! The second thing was that they wanted to go outside. I promised it would happen later. Then I brought them orange juice, and we stayed in bed another hour talking, snuggling, and watching videos. When they were ready for breakfast, Robert was still asleep in the living room, so I did something I've never done before—let children eat food in my bed. I thought it would be a nice treat for them anyway to have breakfast served on bed trays. Maybe next time, though, I'll make something less crumbly than cinnamon toast.

We got dressed and gathered a few items from the toy box to play with outside—a pink frisbee with a company's faded logo and contact info, some little plastic balls, and a paddle-ball toy held together with duct tape. Here's some of what we spent the next several hours doing:

• Throwing the frisbee: We worked on the kids' technique so they'd enjoy it more and so Robert and I would have fewer retrievals beyond the fence.
• Playing baseball: The paddle was the bat, the frisbee was first base, and we all got celebratory home runs every time at bat.
• Hiking along the bayou behind the house: We found walking sticks, looked at birds, watched for turtles, went all the way down to where the duck hangs out, and skipped stones. OK, so we actually kerplunked rocks.

Evyn's pitching form and Ezra's batting stance

Robert had no choice but to stay outside with us all day because Evyn had extracted a pinky promise that he would. As she left the living room after saying goodnight, she turned, raised her pinky, and solemly said, "Remember."

When we were saying goodbye as she sat in the car, Evyn reminded me of the time I took her and Ezra to the movies where we watched "Puss in Boots," danced in the aisle to the music of the closing credits, and played games in the arcade afterward. She asked if we could do it again, and I gave the noncommittal answer, "Maybe one of these days." As Evyn hugged me, her pinky finger slowly, tightly curled around mine. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. I was committed.

That pinky promise is going to cost me some money, and I bet it won't be any more fun than our Saturday in the backyard. The main thing is to give my little darlins' memories of good times—things that will last forever, or at least as long as a duct-taped paddle.