Can I confess. I’m not really the party planner, it’s my second daughter. When she was 8 she planned the most adorable birthday party all by herself. I was working way too many hours and simply didn’t have the time, energy or temperament to help her out. It wasn’t a great time in my mommy-life, I missed the kids so much.
That’s another story.
Anyway, she planned a party called “Camp Basement.”
She reconstructed our basement to look like a campground. She used several blue blankets to make a river. She borrowed several fake Christmas trees to make a forest (and hide the “basement stuff) and placed stuffed animals all over the place. There were beavers building a dam of blocks, birds in the trees, raccoons hiding under the bbq (yep- she brought the BBQ downstairs) they had beverages in the cooler and even clouds in the sky. She pitched a tent and placed a room heater into a circle of stones for a firepit.
As if all of this wasn’t cool enough, she made each of her friends a “Camp Basement” Tshirt to wear for the party. She pulled a few solid colored shirts from her own collection and wrote on them with permanent Sharpie markers.
They ate hot dogs & chips, then s’mores, they told ghost stories around the campfire and sang camp songs.
It was an amazing party, and she was so proud. So was I 
