Saturday, June 29, 2013

Happee Birthdae, Natulee

There's not much I can't do with a free font and the never-ending pile of card stock leftover from Daniel's second birthday.


You're officially invited to the most baller Harry Potter party I've ever thrown.  Which may be the first one I've ever hosted but DANG, y'all.  I want to have one every Friday.  Until my kids get into A Song of Ice and Fire.  Can you imagine the epicness of a Game of Thrones partay?  Let's pause while I start a secret board on Pinterest where I can begin planning this.

NERD ALERT, two seconds too late.

You know, I never got into the whole Harry Potter thing until Eve got sick and then I found myself with a lot of time on my hands just waiting around the hospital.  They say cancer sucks...and it still totally does.  But if it weren't for cancer, I would never have started hiking, met some amazing friends, or visited Hogwarts.  So there.  Suck it, cancer.

It's pretty easy to find the place- just take Platform 9 3/4.


Be careful once you're inside.  The chamber of secrets has been opened...mudbloods beware.


Because of my constant fear of lice, the sorting hat was not present.  We sorted witches and wizards by way of divinations.


Just add some elf-made wine to the magic cups...

elf made wine

And poof!  Your house is revealed.


Thank goodness.  Otherwise we'd never be able to get to the feast.


End of term feast.  I want it all day, every day.

end of term feast

...mostly because "roast" chicken is more like "fried" chicken.  And I don't even know why I put those marks around fried because I'm not being sarcastic.  It was definitely fried.


I fried roasted so much chicken that I had to borrow another cast iron skillet from my neighbor.  Natalie's party was May 31st.  My neighbor will be lucky to have his pan back before the middle of July.  I guess I'm saving it in case I need to "roast" some more chicken.  Also, there is a creepy guy who is apparently going through our neighborhood peeping in windows at night and I think a good cast iron pan upside the head or to the crotch would be just what the doctor ordered.  If your doctor's name is Christy and she's writing scripts for some hardcore vigilante justice Chuck Norris-style.

After the feast, we head out back to Diagon Alley.


You know this is Diagon Alley because I used the window marker I unearthed in the coat closet from Natalie's second birthday to make it so.  As I type this, I am starting to feel like a hoarder.  I have a Smurfs candle from my second birthday that has never made a reappearance at another birthday party, which would probably mean it's time to let it go.  Unless one of my grandchildren may want a Smurfs-themed second birthday party.  I should probably hang on to it, just in case.

Anyway, there were messes to be made.  And these must be made outside.

he who must not be named vaporous repellent

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Vaporous Repellent.  This may or may not have been us pouring baking soda and vinegar into sandwich bags and chucking them before they explode.


Voldemort didn't show up so I guess it worked.  Based on what we observed at the party, it is safe to say that off-label uses also include crocodile, celebrity, and creepy-peeper repellent.  Next, we made troll bogeys with glue, water, and liquid starch.  But we had super-magical names for all of our ingredients like unicorn tears, liquid mandrake, or whatever looked good in the free font we were using.

making troll bogeys

Troll bogeys are pretty much that stuff you got in the early 90s going grocery shopping with your mom and begging her for a quarter so you could get some green snot from the vending machine to play with.

troll bogeys

It's kind of all sorts of awesome.  You should go make some.  You should also have a Smurfs birthday party for the special two-year-old in your life.

Lastly, we made Globulous Leviosa, a lava lamp of sorts.

lava lamps

Natalie started to get insistent that the magic ingredient was just vegetable oil when she knew damn well that it was obviously leech juice, so I told her that if she didn't quiet down, someone from the Ministry of Magic was going to appear and we'd get in trouble for filching the ingredients in the first place.

And seriously sixty seconds later, an officer appears in our backyard.

dan dan

He may be our neighbor who was popping in to give Daniel a Sheriff's badge or HE MAY HAVE REALLY BEEN FROM THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC.  But he travels sans robes in muggle clothes.

Later, we had a re-enactment of Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets where, you know, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is trying to suck the life out of her and whatnot.  It was some badass impromptu fan-theater.  Unfortunately, the scene never came to a climax because we had already used our He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Vaporous Repellent to keep that a-hole out of our backyard.  He can go stick his horcrux where the sun don't shine.

ginny weasley

Yay, Ginny lives!  Let's eat cake.

Natalie really wanted the cake that Hagrid made Harry in the first book, but I kind of felt like I couldn't just have that thing sitting out as THE cake.  So I made this anime-Hedwig cake to make myself feel better.  After all, this day is all about me.


Natalie was not impressed when she saw it.  Is that for me?  Yes!  I DIDN'T WANT THAT!  You're welcome!

It's okay, Nat.  I made your fun, ugly cake.  It's fungly.

hagrid cake

Happy 8th birthday, Natalie!  Although, I hope you don't read my blog until you're at least 16.  I don't mean everything I write, promise.


After cake, cake, and more cake, I figured we were low on sugar so the kids got to go fill up some goody bags at Honeydukes.


Again with the free font and card stock.

We had golden snitches, lemon drops, cockroach clusters, chocolate wands, ton-tongue toffee, acid pops, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean, jelly slugs, and chocolate frogs.


As a society, we probably should eat cake and candy first instead of saving it until right before parents come to get their witches.  This is just based on the three wizards at my house who were flying without the aid of a Nimbus 2000.

At the very end, everyone who managed to survive He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named got a lightning bolt scar on their forehead to show the world that they are ready for next year's Lannisters vs. Starks party.

lightning bolts

Geek out.  But in the way that Ryan Seacrest would say it.

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