Year of the Rabbit

My little Chinese New Year party has come and gone, like a bunny fleeing the neighbors' dog.  I didn't even get a chance to go ga-ga over the decorations and bore you with the details of every purchase and agonizing decision regarding where to hang the dragon streamers.  I'll be visiting my folks on President's Day, the no school, so lets throw a party - day - we had set aside for the event (the real CNY was yesterday, 2-3-11).

So...I slammed something together this past Sunday all last minute like.  We hosted, we crafted, we dragon paraded and we rounded out the afternoon crabby.  Also, I seriously breached the rules of my diet.  Almost a typical day.  

To keep the focus only on the kids and the snark that happens when female friends are free to chat among themselves while wiping snotty noses and addressing who-took-what meltdowns, I dis-invited Chris, the most Chinese person in our house.  He seemed mildly surprised, despite the fact that he always appears on the edge of his seat when I regale him with the latest preschool gossip or remind him that Zumba is so darn addicting.

I don't care if he makes fun of my focus while waiting for class to finish from the glassed-in weight room above the gym where Zumba class is held.  I don't.  Hasn't he seen that little Hokey Poky leg/hip shake I do while holding my hand out like a fan from the side of my head?  It's sexy.

The girlfriends, however, were invited.  Betsey came with her daughter, Dee's best friend from preschool and the person who taught Dee that "did you know you could wear a skirt over your pants??!!!" 

Stacey brought half the guests (and her husband, who I also turned away, to save him from the tedium that is crafting with preschoolers).  Elise brought the yummy Get Rich Dumplings and her established storytelling skills.  Honestly, I think we could rock the team teaching home school thing.  For one.  Whole day.

That would have been the end of lunch if Almost Asian Amy didn't give up an hour of her life at the beginning of the party slaving over the stove cooking the longevity noodles.  Here's to long life, Ame.  Next time I promise to cook first, craft last. And try not to tell me if you cut the noodles, just to make them manageable in the pan.  I know, life requires us to be adaptable, and it's shorter than we expect.

The kids made paper plate bunnies and colored and folded their own dragons this year, with varying degrees of help from the moms, depending on the topic of conversation.  Eventually, we gave out the red envelopes of "lucky money" that consisted of a few semi-shiny pennies (vinegar soaked and polished previously with mixed results and enthusiasm from the kids).  Then we paraded outside and drove the evil spirits of the past year away with our dragons and noisemakers.

The evil that came to reside in T about two minutes into the party over toy sharing and general chaos, was not, however, persuaded to move along by the beating of drums and dragon roars.  Events inducing T to stomp his feet and splay out on the floor in screaming fits continued well into bedtime.  Just to remind me that it may be a new year, but not a new life.  I felt the urge to scurry away like a New Year Bunny.  No such luck.

Still, after the kids settled into bed, or at least eased into quiet chatter amongst themselves, I took out the big, new Christmas camera that I barely know how to turn on.  Without the noise of toddler tantrums and the mess of glue pools and last minute stir fries, I could catch on digital media the last gasps of a spirited dragon and the leap of a newly assembled bunny, and remind myself who's really finding satisfaction in all this hoopla.

I'll give you a hint.  It's the half-Swede.  (: