In spite of all my misgivings about Star Wars, the licensed world, I caved badly and threw Finn a Star Wars-themed party for his 4th birthday. I bought the Clone Wars plates, the cups, the napkins. I bought Clone Wars action figures as party favors. I had a friend bring over extra light sabers so Finn and his friends could practice wielding their Force moves outdoors on balloons.

But it may have been one of the best parties I’ve thrown. Small (8 children, including Ella and Finn), low-key, very homespun.  Ella and Kory put on a Star Wars puppet show with the action figures, which included a construction paper Death Star hanging from magnetic fishing pole, the kids “colored” large format Star Wars pictures. We had frozen mini-Death Star pizzas, light saber cheese sticks, apple slices.  Mostly they just blew their party horns at each other instead of eating. Kory topped the Baskin Robbins ice cream cake with a dueling Obi-Wan and Darth Vader.  Ella made tickets for each child and gave them tattoos after the show.

It was easy and intimate. The kids played.  The moms hung out and drank coffee.  No one cried.

Call it the lazy-mom party. Call it the recessionista party. Call it the fact that maybe I’ve finally learned something about small being better in some very important cases. Finn and his friends called it a good time.



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