But at some point as I punched flower shapes out of watermelon, I turned a corner and started letting go. I decided to let my kids create all the crafts (their stuff looked better than mine anyways). We painted purple rainbows and made hundreds of cupcakes. The always-sunny skies in Los Angeles darkened the day before the party and it rained. Every rainbow party, we decided, needs a little rain, especially during California’s horrific drought. The party was on. And it turned out perfect. My dearest friends showed up and transformed a beautiful piece of park into a rainbow wonderland.
My kids arrived not wearing the adorable party dresses I’d picked out, but in thrashed leggings with bird nests of tangles in their hair. They kicked off their rain boots and got to the business of having fun barefoot. We had a kid-run “Sprinkle Bar” and the most magnetic performer ever, who had the kids dancing in fairy wings and running around on a crystal hunt. Kids climbed trees, made fairy dust, created mayhem at the maypole, wore rainbow headdresses they made, and had their faces painted and bejeweled. They all looked like the magical creatures they are.