Socially Inept Mama Braces for Impact

T-30 until Milo's first non-family birthday party.  He's been invited to a classmate's celebration.  Beyond excited, he exclaimed, "Mom!  let's go now!  I want to be the first one there!"

Uh, sorry, sweet potato, your socially inept mommy doesn't want to be the first one there.  It's my first birthday party, too...  Am I supposed to stick around?  To drop you off?  To hang out with the other pre-school moms?  Only a couple really talk to me...  I'm an anomaly -- the working mom who drops her kid off at school.  The other working moms don't.  I know this because the "daycare mom" arrives with four of them in tow. 

Am I dressed OK?  I probably shouldn't wear my cute kitten heels, What Not to Wear be damned -- the party is in a gym.  Oh, I hope they don't ask me to do anything athletic -- as you recall, I'm quite the klutz.  Gotta go brush my teeth.  Should I wear lipgloss?  My hair's not quite dry, but if I were to dry it I'd look like an electrocuted Ewok.

I have always had birthday party anxiety.  I remember one party, when I was 7 or 8, the host forgot to give me a spoon or fork for my cake and ice cream.  Too embarrassed to ask for one, I ate with my fingers -- even the bite that had a burnt match stuck to the bottom.  I didn't eat the match, but some of the ash stuck to the cake and as I swallowed that bite, I willed myself not to vomit in front of everyone, thank goodness that worked.  If I couldn't manage to ask for a fork, barfing in front of a room full of kids might have sent me into hiding for longer than J.D. Salinger...

We've reviewed birthday party etiquette.  He signed his name to the card and wrote the birthday boy's name on the front.  When did my kid learn to write the alphabet?  He says he can write every letter but K and Z and I believe him because he randomly wrote the A-J, and L-Y the other day.  Not scratched on my car with a stick, though, he saved THAT trick for his name.  In case he forgets which side of the car holds his car seat.

OK.  T-22...