March 11, 2023
I’m going to take a bold stance here—one that might invite the ire of those who thrive on the drama of mommy wars—but my little one’s first birthday bash won’t revolve around him.
You won’t find a bounce house in my yard or a plethora of cartoon-themed decorations, nor will there be elaborate displays showcasing my son’s first-year milestones. I refuse to spend an excessive amount of time on Pinterest or break the bank on Etsy, planning a party for a toddler who still wears diapers and finds joy in licking remote controls.
No fancy cake will be on the menu just so my son can smash it into his face, leading to a 30-minute clean-up. And forget about hiring a professional photographer; by the time I get around to showcasing those photos, he’ll likely be starting kindergarten.
As my son approaches his first birthday, I’ve realized that out of a playroom brimming with flashy toys, his favorite is a simple, old Tupperware bowl—not even a new one! It’s probably from a cookout five years ago, hidden in the depths of my Tupperware cabinet. I handed it to him a few months back while trying to distract him, hoping it would buy me time to make some ramen, and now it’s become his prized possession, right alongside his love for pulling off his socks and chewing on them.
But don’t mistake my humor for a lack of celebration. We will definitely mark this special occasion. The true reason for the festivities is that my husband and I have successfully navigated the tumultuous waters of our first year as parents. We’ve endured postpartum blues, colic, and extreme sleep deprivation. We’ve managed to travel with a newborn, whether it was on a plane or during a grueling 10-hour road trip, not to mention the countless diaper blowouts that resulted in surprise messes.
Transitioning from corporate life to stay-at-home mom was more challenging than I anticipated. The isolation can push even the most resilient woman to the brink of madness.
Throughout this first year, I’ve often found myself in a state of mild panic and uncertainty. I know I’m not alone; despite the solitary moments, I’ve formed invaluable friendships with other new moms who understand the struggle.
We all returned from the hospital, staring down our newborns in disbelief, wondering if we had made the biggest mistake of our lives. We’ve sat across from our partners at the dinner table, red-eyed and wearing the same spit-up-stained shirts for days, questioning if our romantic life was truly over. We’ve called our moms in tears on particularly tough days, pleading for help, convinced we weren’t cut out for this parenting gig.
We’ve experienced sadness, longing for our pre-baby lives, and the guilt of not cherishing every moment. And yes, we’ve all felt the urge to roll our eyes at well-meaning strangers who say, “It all goes by so fast.” While we know it’s true, it’s hard to appreciate that sentiment when you’re knee-deep in diapers and sleepless nights.
Before you label me as the most heartless mother, I want to clarify that we’ve also enjoyed the heartwarming firsts—the giggles that melt away anxiety and the countless little moments that make it all worthwhile.
Yet, for all the self-doubt I’ve wrestled with this year, there’s one thing I can assure you: I won’t be fixating on the details of a birthday party. Instead, I’ll be too busy raising my glass of mimosas in celebration.
If you’re looking for more insights and stories, check out this post about home insemination techniques and tips here. For an authority on this topic, visit Make a Mom. And if you’re seeking reliable information on IVF and related treatments, NHS is an excellent resource to explore.
In summary, as I prepare to celebrate my son’s first birthday, I’m raising a toast not just to him, but to the incredible journey my husband and I have taken this past year. It’s been a wild ride filled with challenges and triumphs, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.