Chapter 87: The planning day

The morning sun spilled golden light into our living room, brushing across the girls’ toys scattered like confetti from yesterday’s adventures. I sipped my coffee, savoring the quiet for the briefest of moments before the shrill chirps of anticipation began. It was almost impossible to ignore the little storm that was brewing in my daughters’ hearts.

“Mom! Mom! Guess what today is?” Aria burst into the kitchen, her curls bouncing like springs, her small fists clapping together in sheer excitement.

I smiled, already anticipating what was coming. “Let me guess… it’s Monday?”

“No!” she squealed, hopping from one foot to the other. “It’s our birthday planning day!”

Arianna appeared behind her sister, a notebook clutched tightly in her hands. “We need to make lists, Mommy. Lists of everything. Cake, games, decorations… and snacks.” Her voice was meticulous, methodical, almost comically precise for a six-year-old.

Arian, the practical and analytical one, marched toward me, her little brow furrowed. “We also need to make a timeline. Efficiency is crucial. If the cake isn’t ready by 3:00 PM, everything fails.”

Cassian, who had been sprawled across the sofa with an empty cereal bowl, jumped upright. “Failure is not an option! This is war. Operation Birthday is now in effect!”

Adrian groaned. “Do they always make birthdays sound like military campaigns?”

Lucian laughed quietly from the doorway, watching the whirlwind of energy unfold. “It’s… organized chaos,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Just the way they like it.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of our family in every laugh and every tiny burst of excitement. “All right,” I said, “let’s start by making a plan. Who’s in charge of what?”

Aria jumped immediately. “Me! I’ll pick the theme! I want… unicorns and rainbows and sparkles! Lots and lots of sparkles!”

Arianna held her notebook higher. “Then I’ll handle the invitations. We need to make sure everyone gets them on time. And I’ll track RSVPs in this log.” She tapped the notebook like it was a sacred artifact.

Arian folded her arms, nodding approvingly. “I will oversee the schedule. From cake arrival to gift opening to the games. There will be no deviation from protocol.”

Cassian clapped his hands together. “I volunteer as chief of entertainment! Face-painting, magic tricks, balloon animals—nothing is too grand!”

Adrian muttered something under his breath about chaos, but I ignored him for the moment, focusing on harnessing this incredible energy. Lucian and I exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let the kids take the reins—for now.

The next few hours were a flurry of decision-making. Aria drew elaborate sketches of rainbow arches and glittering castles. Arianna meticulously wrote down names, addresses, and even a timeline for sending out each invitation. Arian mapped out the layout of the house for the party, ensuring safety and accessibility while maximizing fun. Cassian tested potential party games in the living room, turning our home into a playground.

Lucian and I floated around the edges, offering guidance, picking up toys, helping with practical tasks, and occasionally laughing at the girls’ over-the-top ideas. “Do we really need a three-tiered rainbow cake?” I asked Aria, pretending to be skeptical.

“Absolutely, Mommy! And don’t forget the glitter frosting!” she said, glaring at me as if I had questioned the laws of physics.

By late afternoon, the house was littered with party plans: sketches, to-do lists, ribbon samples, and confetti remnants from an enthusiastic testing session. The girls were in their element, their excitement palpable, their smiles infectious.

Lucian pulled me aside for a quiet moment in the kitchen. “They’re going to have the most memorable birthday ever,” he said, eyes soft. “Because it’s not about the decorations or the games… it’s about how loved they feel.”

I leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace despite the chaos around us. “I just hope we can keep up with them,” I admitted. “Sometimes it feels like their energy could power a city.”

He chuckled. “We’ll manage. We always do. And honestly… I kind of love it.”

The evening fell, and as we tucked the girls into bed, each one chattered endlessly about cake flavors, party games, and dress codes for their imaginary guests. Aria requested sparkling dresses, Arianna wanted her own RSVP checklist in her hands, and Arian lectured on the importance of punctuality for every event.

Cassian had somehow ended up in the hallway demonstrating balloon-animal techniques, and Adrian—well, he was quietly cataloging the chaos in his own meticulous way.

Lucian and I finally sat down after the bedtime frenzy, exhausted but exhilarated. “We should probably start thinking about logistics too,” I said, sipping the now-cold tea on the counter.

“Yes,” Lucian agreed. “I’ll call the bakery tomorrow, confirm the cake, check on decorations, and make sure the entertainment is all booked.”

“And I’ll handle the invitations, coordinate with friends’ parents, and make sure nothing falls through the cracks,” I added.

We paused, listening to the soft, rhythmic breathing of our girls asleep in their rooms, dreaming of rainbows, unicorns, and perfectly timed parties. I felt a swell of love so big it made my chest ache. “I can’t believe how fast they’re growing,” I whispered.

Lucian kissed my temple. “Neither can I. But every moment like this… it’s a gift. We’re lucky.”

And as I watched him, I realized just how much our family had endured—the fear, the chaos, the darkness—and yet, here we were, planning a birthday. Not a forced celebration, not a masked happiness, but a real one, full of laughter, love, and life.

It wasn’t just a birthday plan. It was proof that we had made it through everything, stronger, happier, and together.