At our faculty's opening of school meeting, my chairperson asked us to share a professional high and a personal high from the summer months. Though I couched it as a personal high, A Princess and a Race Car was both professional and personal. My time in the preschool served me well. I successfully planned and managed (with a lot of assistance) a dozen four-year-olds for 2 hours.
Ironically, shortly into the party, I realized that I had organized my support team so well that I had nothing to do! I stood in the middle of my patio, spinning from the princesses, who were eagerly creating necklaces with our babysitter, to the racers, who were engaged with my hubby and pop as they built their race cars. My mom was in my office, printing the pictures she had taken of each child for their party favors. Everyone seemed happy. I felt useless.
They did need me, of course, and that 5 minute period proved to be my last respite as we read the story, ran the race, held the dance party, and served lunch. It was glorious chaos.
I received an email that night from one of the moms, who said that her son had not stopped racing his car around the house and that they had read the story to both of their children multiple times at dinner. This feedback made me smile, but when my daughter asked for A Princess and a Race Car to be her bedtime book for several days following the party, my heart soared. It's still a favorite in our house.