So, Spawn turns 11 on Sunday.
After ten years of extravapalooza parties for The Celebrated Date, I have finally come to my senses and declared: no more.
The Halloween party broke me, folks. I am a broken, broken woman.
Spawn took the news pretty well, actually. Maybe the past month of me being rather snappish about being unemployed made an impression. I just explained to the kid that money is tight and therefore I am not up to taking on the expense of a party right now. That, and I am just not up to the emotional turmoil that comes with my old nemesis, the RSVP. I am done. Finito.
I know when I’m whupped.
(Sidebar: my imminent unemployment has been pushed back about three months. That’s another story for another time.)
I declared “no more parties” after the Halloween debacle. I think Spawn finally understands that I meant that. As soon as the kid opened mouth about a birthday party, I shut that thought right down. Merry Christmas, kiddo. And surprisingly, I didn’t get a lot of pushback. Is that a little bit of maturity I see growing in? Or is it my in-no-uncertain-terms tone of voice, which I am capable of having now and again? Hard to say.
I’m not even ordering a bakery cake this year, folks. That’s how serious I am about this. I am actually going to bake my kid’s birthday cake MYSELF.
Last week, however, in a fit of pique I began to doubt myself. I started researching options — not for a party, oh god no — for a fun weekend trip for the kid. I mean, we get a long weekend due to MLK Day, and it seemed wasteful to not take advantage of it.
And you know what? Plan B is a helluva lot more expensive than a party.
Of course, Plan B scenarios included: a weekend in Chicago, a weekend at an indoor water park, a weekend in the mountains, and a weekend at a public aquarium. The hotel rates alone were indigestible.
So I scaled back my expectations a bit. Dinner and a movie, which is expensive in its own right. Invitation to one friend only. It’s all we can afford.
I’m trying to remember back to when I was a kid, what kind of birthday celebrations my parents did for me. I don’t remember too many parties. Mostly it was a friend and my grandparents (of which I was lucky enough to have both sets in the same town), along with my parents. I had one slumber party, in the sixth grade, during which we girls pushed all the furniture out of the way in the family room and did cartwheels and handstands and stuff at some point close to midnight. There is a picture in my parents’ albums of a party for me at age three, in which I and all of my mother’s friends’ children are dressed up in smocked dresses and patent leather shoes and wearing cone-shaped party hats. I do not remember this party. And I don’t remember having a party for my Sweet 16, probably because at that point I was too embarrassed to have one.
I guess you could say I am resurrecting a fine old family tradition by putting the kabosh on an extravagant party. After ten years of this nonsense of offsite parties and entertaining a group of kids for 2-3 hours and then sending everyone home all hopped up on sugar, goody bag in hand — I have decided that maybe the sane route is to focus more on what the day means for us as a family. Because, at the core, the fact that Spawn has a birthday is what makes us a family.
– Mox
When we lived in NY, a birthday party required a clown, goodie bags, and food for adults. Argh! By the time my oldest turned 10, we were living back in California. He invited three friends over to spend the night. I still have a picture of them wearing what looks to be a lot of Army surplus gear. Boys!
I’m pretty old school on this one. You get to pick out one friend and do dinner and a movie plus the sleepover. Since it’s Monday, I’m sure Spawn has survived and so have you. Sometimes you have to break a cycle. Then it’s done and you feel free to do whatever. This year my youngest son said, “We aren’t getting each other Christmas presents this year are we?” Okay, he’s 25, but he couldn’t see the point of rushing around to buy “stuff.” So we had ZERO presents except the joy of each other’s company and friends for dinner. And you know what? It was a great Christmas!
I am the oldest of six kids, so whenever my parents planned something for me they looked ahead to the next five kids and what would be required to duplicate the effort for each kid, so they didn’t go all out…Also, they lucked out, because my birthday is in August when everyone was on vacation (after Little League season was over) so there weren’t that many kids in town. Sometimes, even I wasn’t in town. So there weren’t many birthday parties, although parties weren’t very extravagant in those long ago days. I did have a party for my 6th birthday. It was in our unfinished basement. I still have a scar on my knee from where I fell into the air conditioner while playing hide and seek.
I hope Spawn had a nice birthday. I remember a lot of elementary school parties that just got out of control, so I don’t miss that. My son’s 26th birthday is tomorrow. He doesn’t live in town, and I’ve already sent him a card and a check, and that’s about the extent of our celebration. He’s newly married so I hope his new wife does something special!