Food Fight: Type A Style

Sometime in the dead of this past winter, a seed of an idea was planted and began to grow into something beyond what any of us (except Jacob, maybe/probably) imagined.  Here is a general outline of the progression: 

• (after reading Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs): Can you imagine it raining (insert food here)?
• Are food fights a real thing?
• Have you ever been in one?
• A food fight would be funny. 
• This (any random food) would be fun to have at a food fight.
• Can we have a food fight?
• When could we have a food fight?
• When will we have a food fight?
  (I think when I answered it would need to be warm for one, he assumed I meant we were for sure having one once it was warm.)
• This (any random food) would be fun to have at the food fight.
  Me: The food fight…?
• Can we invite (random friend) to the food fight? 
• We should have that at the food fight. 
• We could serve that at the food reception after the food fight.
  Me: (?!)
• Have you invited (one of many friends) to the food fight, yet? 
• (to anyone on or off the “official” 90-person-deep guest list): Are you able to come to the food fight? It’s June 8th. You’re welcome to stay for the food reception afterward. 

I will liken this progression to the growth of our volunteer cilantro that started coming up on a warm day in mid-January and is just now going to seed. 

Hard to tell in this picture, but it was as tall as her.

So, at some point, we started planning in earnest.  We made a list of food fight items, "food reception" fare, and guests.  We scouted, we budgeted, and we acquired.  We invited family and old friends and new friends.  We talked about the food fight nearly every day…for real.  

As the event drew nearer, the guest list grew, as did my to-do list.  Never did I ever expect to set aside time to prepare over a pound of Jello powder (it fills a dish pan, for the record) or fill thirty squirt bottles with watered-down caramel (in case you ever find yourself doing so, just know it’s much easier to water it down first than to shake them together in the tiny bottle).  I also did not see myself preparing several packages of pudding (with nearly-expired milk) to be flung at a target or asking my husband to help fry pancake "frisbees."  And yet, we did it all; all in preparation.  

Grandma scouted this for us as a small-town store in Auburn, NE. 
So, I guess we could say we had imported Jello…?

This was a treasure of an Aldi find.  When we first scouted Aldi for cool whip, they were out.  We were there for other things the next week, this was no longer on my radar, but Jacob changed the air pressure in the room with his "Mom!! LOOK!!!!" gasp, and I changed it again with my subsequent gasp of excitement.  Not only did they have what we were looking for in stock, but they had a larger size for a better price!  (This was later used for plate-full-of-whipped-cream "pies" to be put in faces.)

expired pasta + expired food coloring

Remember that time I worked at HyVee?  I put my one remaining contact to good use and checked in to see if they might be able to contribute any discarded items.  It doesn’t hurt to ask, right?

They definitely delivered!  None of us could believe it. 

Many old, crusty marshmallows were thrown.

preparing powdered sugar "bombs"

As she was leaving the event, a friend of mine said, "This was the most Type A food fight ever, and it was awesome!"  As a fellow Type A herself, she noticed and appreciated the many details we had thought through, including, but not limited to: a packing list with a suggestion to wear goggles, food-related games to play upon arrival, shower caps, clearly-marked boundaries, a hosing-off station, a paper trail to the bathroom, washcloths/soap/shampoo ready in the shower, and extra grocery bags to transport wet clothes.  Another attendee noted that while other Type A onlookers may have cringed at the mess, they whole-heartily enjoyed (and commented on out loud) the organization of it all.  Of course, this made my heart swell to hear, because what more does a Type A love than to be acknowledged for his/her forethought and efforts?  Ha.  In all seriousness, though, it was nice to be noticed, but nicer to have had everything go so well.  And truthfully, Jacob was really in on a lot of the planning and organization.  He even utilized his police megaphone to gather all the participants for the kick-off.

Jacob was so excited to mark the path to the bathroom.  He started with his version of a star, included many smiley faces along the way,

and ended with an X (to mark the spot, of course).

He also enlisted his very artistic cousin (and two little helpers) to create a banner.

filling a bucket with cookies

While everyone was still arriving, participants could try out the Jello stomp, pudding fling, and pancake frisbee toss.  Yes, the Jello stained feet.  Yes, there was pudding everywhere.  No, the pancakes did not fall apart...much.

After some deliberation, we decided to put vessels of food fight items in small, random groupings around the yard.  The "ammunition station" provided anything squirtable, as well as spoons and straws to utilize however desired.  This is also where the whipped cream "pies" were distributed and refilled after being smashed in faces.  

Buckets of water were provided to help clear eyes/goggles/hands in the heat of the battle.
The tarps were up to ensure the baby plants in the garden didn't get doused in caramel sauce, or something.

Once most everyone had arrived, we convened to go over some ground rules, counted down from three, and yelled, "Food fight!"  My brother is credited with the suggestion to include the iconic "food fight" battle cry.  He is also credited with offering to build a playlist and bringing a professional-grade speaker on which to play it.  And he kicked off the fight by spraying everyone with root beer.  Pretty sure this was a dream that lived in his head in a similar way to how it lived in Jacob's.

The green pool was full of noodles, and the Jello all got dumped in the pink.

So much whipped cream in so many faces...haha!

Just a kid living his dream.
I treasure this picture so much. ♥

The fight itself lasted close to forty minutes before ammunition ran out and people were done being sticky.  It is worth noting there were no tears and no injuries, that I know of (unless you count some rock-hard-cookie-induced welts on a couple of the older participants, which were just laughed away).  After helping "sweep" the yard, the thirty-ish participants filed through the hosing-off station and were welcomed to enjoy the "food reception" with the thirty-ish onlookers.  While the small host initially thought this meal should include all the fare guests had used in the fight itself, we got him talked down to hot dogs, chips, and whatever anyone wanted to bring to share.  Grandma came through and at least provided Jello to be eaten, which seemed to appease him.  ;)

We fully realize this was all a little "extra" and somewhat wasteful, but it really was worth it.  It was not a "yes" we had to say, but it was also a "yes" there wasn't much reason not to say.  Not only were we able to turn it into several math lessons, but also lessons in hospitality, generosity, and logistics.  (The kid very well may have a future in event planning after honing his skills with this one.)  While it was not necessarily an easy "yes," it turned into one after seeing how much joy even just the anticipation was bringing the small host, as well as many potential guests.  We were so glad to provide the space and opportunity for kids (and a few adults) to be kids and make a core memory together.  

Jacob was genuinely grateful (without any coaching) and has continued to thank us in the days following.  He has even said the next one could be "medium," then the next "small," then we could just have people over to play.  (Ha!)  I took that to mean he realized how much work and resources went into making it happen, so he does not expect "bigger and better" if/when we do it again.  I also took it to mean that he highly valued having some of his favorite people from so many of our circles in the same place and really just loved having his friends meet his friends.  ☺  We'll see about a "next time."  It did encourage several pantry clean-outs...so...

Thank you so much to all who helped make this dream a reality for our sweet boy.  From contributing ammunition (some even without attending), to showing interest, to participating - he truly loved it all.  Special thanks to the dear friend who volunteered to serve as the event photographer - complete with real camera!  Several others took and shared pictures, which is always appreciated, but never did I ever think we would have such quality shots of all the memories made.  I (perhaps obviously) did not share them all here for the sake of privacy, but we are so glad to have such thorough documentation to enjoy for years to come.

Still finding sticky spots and now-crunchy noodles in the yard,

Kensy

Favorites of the day:

meeting new people

bargains

stuffed animal camp-out at the library
(They each left one to spend the night at the library and got to see what "mischief" they'd been up to at story time the next morning.)

Our Very Hungry Caterpillar

As of a month ago, we have a one-year-old in the house!  So hard to believe.  I still don't know how to feel about it.  BUT, I thought I’d share some pictures of his Pinterest-inspired (though not Pinterest-worthy) party! ☺

Bryant's mom made the super cute birthday shirt (GreatStitch), and his mom and sister made the awesome quilt!
(These are for sure Pinterest-worthy, for the record.)

Thank you, Amazon, for having the perfect plain, colored, non-glitter b-day hats that happened to match the "Happy Birthday" banner I've had for years!

Hooray for free online printables and bamboo skewers I always knew I was saving for a reason!

These were his monthly "milestone" pictures!

Never did I ever expect to have a "photo booth" at our one-year-old's birthday party, but it just kind-of happened. 
The caterpillar ended up on the empty spot we usually take pictures in front of, and it ended up being a nice way to commemorate the decoration.

More monthly pics (he had almost exactly the same few poses each month, so I couldn't help but print them all out).

The "spread!"

(Cucumbers and mint fresh from the garden!)

My 4-H cake decorating training/materials came in handy!

His very first cake (or treat of any kind) experience!

He commonly eats with just one hand, so this method wasn't out of the ordinary. 
He took bites a little faster than normal, though. ☺

When they take the cake away...

Made a pretty good dent in it!

This party was a little more involved than I'd originally thought it would be, but when you have all the materials to just keep decorating (thanks to my card-making hobby/materials), you just keep decorating!  haha.  I kept telling myself that because I wasn't planning to make all the food the caterpillar eats in the book, and I also wasn't planning to poke little holes in all the food, I wasn't going completely overboard.  I did, however, put up more decorations than I'd thought I would, and just generally did more than serve a meal and some cake.  It was enjoyable, though, and really fun to make it special.

...

I considered leaving this post at that; a fun DIY party that was enjoyable all around.  In the interest of transparency and sharing life lessons learned, however, I’m going to tell another part of this story.

There were tears involved.   Unnecessary-stress induced tears.  Unnecessary stress-induced tears.

There were a few causes for these tears (including, but not limited to, the fact that our baby was turning ONE), but the unnecessary stress I brought upon myself to put on this super-casual, low-key first birthday party caused me to reach a breaking point.

In an effort to try to help my sweet, patient husband understand what was contributing to my inner turmoil and unrest over this gathering (for which we didn’t even send out formal invitations), I did some serious self-reflection (that I've already shared and talked through with him, for the record). Here’s what I figured out:

I felt alone. Felt is the key word, here. I knew then, and I still know now, that I wasn’t, but for some reason, that didn’t stop me from feeling alone and unsupported in the planning process.  We had a lot going on in the time leading up to this milestone, so yes, I may have been the only one making the specific plans (both necessary and unnecessary ones, mind you).  That doesn’t mean, however, that my husband and pretty much everyone who was going to attend the event didn't offer to help.  As it turns out, I’m just terrible at accepting help and even more terrible at asking for it.  This wasn't the first time this has been an issue for me.  I’ve even been know to rescind a request for help because I felt guilty/bad/burdensome for asking in the first place.  Some would probably say it's a matter of control.  At times, it very well may be, but only in part.  More-so, I just really don't want to inconvenience others, especially when I am fully capable of doing what I'm asking them to do...or when I don't think the task I'd be asking them to do is completely necessary in the first place (i.e. hole-punching pieces for a homemade banner that I wasn't even planning to make).

The other, less-prevalent-in-my-life, thing I realized is that I did more decorating than I'd planned because it was really the only thing I could do in advance.  I couldn't make food more than a couple days ahead of time.  My biggest fear was the cake frosting "melting," so I wanted to wait till the night before to do the cupcakes/cake.  I could only clean so far in advance before things would need cleaning again.  So, since all the plans were made, but I felt like I couldn't do anything in the couple weeks leading up to the party, I just kept making decorations.  I don't regret it (esp. since I didn't really spend money on them - I already had all the materials in my stamping stash...and it's something I enjoy doing), but I do regret the time it took away and stress I allowed it to add to everything else life entailed at the time.

As I was writing this (because goodness knows this wasn't written all in one sitting (#allthenaptimes)), I was listening to a podcast during which they discussed the fear of failing in front of others and the need to have emotions/hurts/feelings/"wrestle points"/circumstances known.  It was my desire for this party to go off without a hitch and be enjoyable for all who attended.  It was also my desire to creatively and economically make it special, which meant several DIY projects.  My fear of it all not getting done, the cake melting, the food not being enough, etc., etc. was real.  If I failed in any of these areas, it would be very evident to those attending the party (who would not have cared/judged at ALL, for the record).  I kept all this fear bottled up inside of me until it came spilling out of my eyeballs in the form of ugly-cry-tears.  I (finally) expressed these fears, took a deep breath, and realized how irrational I was being.  This may have all been a silly reason to come to some of these realizations, but I'm so glad to have come to the realizations, period, regardless of the reason.

Something else that was mentioned on the podcast put into words something I've been trying to explain (to myself and others), but hadn't quite been able to figure out how to do so: "Recreation causes disappearance."  When someone can recreate our feelings/situation in a way we feel completely heard, then that can cause our situation to disappear in a way that no longer bears weight on our life.  I've heard the quote before, but had to look up who said it first: Timothy Keller said (wrote?), "To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything."  Bottom line: God is enough.  He's more than enough, in fact.  He both knows AND loves us, and He's all that matters.  Why, oh why, is this simple, simple truth so difficult to remember, sometimes?  I've been writing (in my head, that is) pieces of a whole other blog post about my desire to be known in my still-fairly-new community and stage of life (outside of marriage), but I'm deciding right at this moment that I'm not going to do so.  Writing the post itself would've been a cry out to be known by others besides the Lord, and it's just not necessary.

So, anyway...here I am, writing to you in an effort to put my fears/failures/mistakes/emotions out in the open; not for sympathy, but in an effort to bring some light and solidarity to some issues I'm sure I'm not the only one struggling with (speaking of struggling, I'm struggling to leave that sentence ending with a preposition, but I'm going to, anyway...choosing my battles...or something like that...).  I hope to become better at seeking and accepting help, as well as failing in front of others.  My pride, perfectionism, and own sense of control are not worth the expense of the stress it all can sometimes create in my life and the lives of those with whom I'm closest.

Phew.  Ironically, I wrote far more than I expected to about a party I decorated for far more than I expected to.  Ha!  If you made it this far, thank you.  I appreciate the time and interest you took in my pictures, ideas, and thoughts.  As always, questions and comments are more than welcome.  Happy to chat about any of it in person, too!  ☺

Transparently,
Kensy

P.S.  An added benefit to all the decoration efforts: since there isn't a holiday for a while after the 4th of July, I just left the b-day decorations up for a couple of weeks!  It was kind-of fun to feel like we continued the celebration.

Favorites of the day:

quality time with others

garden-fresh produce

brunch 

more specifically: this pancake "flight"