Yesterday was the first birthday party of first grade.

I hope it’s the first of many.

Actually, at the moment, I really don’t. I need some time to recover.

Even at their best, other kids’ birthday parties can be stressful, if it’s not your crowd. And this wasn’t. I’m just not a walk-right-up-and-introduce-myself kinda gal, so I hung back, mostly, checking my iPhone, which I know is obnoxious and probably what kept others from approaching me.

No one approached Sophie much, either, despite her attempts to engage the other kids. She looked a little bewildered a couple times, but then she latched onto one of the young women working at Pump It Up — the party was at one of those warehouses packed with bouncey castles — and played with her the entire time. (I bet that girl slept well last night.)

I don’t want to sound whiny, but I swore to be honest in this blog, so I’ll say it: Sometimes it’s hard to watch Sophie with the other kids. She does have friends, real friends, I know she does. A few. OK, a couple. But those kids didn’t happen to be at this party. And so yesterday the other partygoers cruised past her — faster in every way. The only time the birthday girl approached  (politely, I have to admit) was to ask Sophie to relinquish her turn at the air hockey game, which she’d just started playing. Sophie agreed, and walked away. I wanted to cry.

It was a marked difference from the few birthday parties we attended last year. Or maybe I just didn’t want to admit that that’s the way it is/was. I still don’t.

And if you ask Sophie, the party was super and she had a great time. I suppose that’s what counts.