Last year I made the mistake of telling Emily (the big granddaughter, aged four) that I was going to a little boy's birthday party. She was devastated that she couldn't come too, so I decided then that when and if they came to New Zealand I'd have a children's party for her to go to.
Luckily the weather was just perfect the whole time they were here, so both girls could wear the dresses I'd made them a wee while ago to the party. Em calls them variously the "rosy dresses" or the "princess dresses" and needs to put hers on when her Daddy plays the piano so she can dance properly! It's something to do with having exposed shoulders apparently. And pink.
The party started off with all the children (15 of them, some of my friends' kids) decorating their own party hats with pens and stickers and self-adhesive "jewels" and other bits and bobs. That was a good ice-breaker; quite a few of the kids didn't know each other, and Emily and Caitlin didn't know any of them.
After hats I gave them each bubble blowing gear and sent them outside to blow bubbles:
The parents were mingling and drinking beer and supervising, it was all good fun.
Then we had the food. We had all the traditional New Zealand kids' party food: cheerios (small cocktail sausages) with tomato sauce; rolled up luncheon sausage held together by toothpicks, toothpicks with cherry tomatoes and cheese cubes impaled on them; fairy pikelets (in America these would be called pancakes, in England, drop scones, and the "fairy" part is hundreds and thousands sprinkled on top); butterfly cakes; and last but definitely not least, ice cream and jelly!
They all seemed to have a good time, as did the Mummies and Daddies. They went through a good few bottles of beer, several loaves of bread, and all of my home made salamis and cheese anyway.