So, aside from the fact that I had "help" cleaning and setting up, which meant things took longer than expected, so that the dotter was still in the bathtub when the first guests arrived (!!), all went well, no-one sneered at my house and housekeeping, and the kids had enough fun so that one of them melted into tears at the thought of leaving.

Everything was horsie--the signage taped to various stop signs and street poles to help people navigate through Hippy Dippy Enclave in the Woods, the decor, the goodie boxes, the goodies inside the goodie boxes, the cake, and the Dotter scored a whole herd of plastic horsies as gifts, including a second Tawny.

I have yet to figure out baking up here.  Even with pre-heating, setting the oven temperature higher, and adding extra flour, whatever I bake requires an inordinately long time to cook.  But the recipe I used turned out nicely.  The original plan was to produce this, but we had neither the time nor the extra frosting to do the mane, so we had a bald horse head as the cake. 

I cleaned the house.  The dotter and I talked and talked and talked about how she needed to have the house clean and her room clean for her friends to play in.  So first she schlepped all her living room detritus into her bedroom.  Then I got a look at it...everything was in a heap in the doorway.  So, with great zen-like patience, I coached her into cleaning things up.

It was clean.  Honestly.  It was clean--really clean--before the guests showed up.  However, within fifteen minutes, the horrendous scene to the left is what remained of our herculean task.  The various kiddos arrived, there was thundering through the house, interspersed with screams of glee and dramatic fallings down.  Our bedroom, which was supposed to be off-limits, was breached within minutes, on a quest for The Cat.  The Cat was then carted around the house by various children, in various carry poses.  Quite soon, The Cat disappeared.  Smart animal.

A game of pin-the-tail-on-the-horse was followed by cake and ice cream.

Then, of course, it was time for presents.

Five-year-olds at a party with presents are an interesting group.  The presents seem to become a communal item to open and enjoy.

However, there was, of course, OmegaDotter's One And Only True Love at the party, and he had outdone himself.  This young man and OmegaDotter have been joined at the hip since they were, oh, two-and-a-half.  There was, of course, a horse.  There was a horse calendar.  There was a bag of potpourri (yes, really!).  But the piece de resistance was...

Flowers.  Oh, not real flowers, but a lovely group of silk flowers from Michael's.

OAOTL is well on his way to being a suave smoothy with the ladies.  Take a look at her expression.  (Kindly do not take this gift as some weird commentary on C's masculinity--he is all boy, trust me.)

She, of course, immediately started running around, saying, "C!  C!  We can get married now!"

When asked to pose with C and his gifts, she swooned against his side.  Just look at that expression.

OmegaDad and I, and C's mom, are all rather befuddled by this long-term romance.

All the kids played with all the horses, with OmegaDotter's "carmonica" (which everyone says she actually plays rather well), and then ended up on the futon watching Wallace & Gromit in A Grand Day Out.  Since it ended up looking eerily reminiscent of the clichéd Red Couch photos that everyone who adopts from China has to have, this last pic is for all my buds who have adopted from China:

All in all, it went well.  I survived.  OmegaDad, beset by a horrid sinus infection and feeling like shit, ran away to his office, fearing to contaminate seven little kids.  The Dawg stayed shut up in the office, barked his head off once in a while, and generally behaved himself.

I'm tired.  OmegaDad is tired.  The Dotter is tired.  Too much excitement for her, I think, and also she's hitting that subconscious wall related to her birth and abandonment.  (Yeah, yeah, scoff all you want, but she goes into a tailspin right around now for a few weeks every year.)