It’s not that I shun all forms of commercial celebration. We splurge on Halloween costumes that could fund a small vacation (trust me, homemade costumes for three kids can be just as pricey). Our home is adorned with seasonal window decorations, straw scarecrows hugging the mailbox, and a wooden reindeer twinkling with white lights. We have a collection of Disney princess pajamas and have even dipped into the world of matching outfits for American Girl dolls. Yet, the thought of inviting the entire class to a chaotic party at a venue with subpar pizza just doesn’t sit right with me. While I express this without shame, I do feel a twinge of guilt.
I want my kids to know, for their entire lives, that I was never more joyful than on the days they were born. Still, I can’t wrap my head around a party that includes classmates they might not even like, in a location I can’t control, and with teenagers leading a lackluster “Happy Birthday.” To me, that hardly feels like a celebration. We end up with a table piled high with gifts that miss the mark entirely. Picture a frantic parent, late for their own plans, standing in the toy aisle asking their child, “What does she like?” and getting a shrug in response. The result? A $46 toy that’s completely unnecessary—“Nah, buddy, that’s too much. Let’s go for this $7 My Little Pony instead,” which inevitably ends up being one of three identical gifts.
Once, I took my youngest to a party at a Zumba studio. My husband and I had literally bartered over who would attend and what the other would owe in return. I was flabbergasted when the host mom welcomed us, addressed my daughter, explained the activities, and then said to me, “You’re free to go! We’ll be done in 90 minutes.”
“Wait, you don’t want me to stay?” I asked, completely taken aback.
“Are you kidding? If I could have 90 minutes to myself, I’d bolt! Parties can be a drag, but the kids will dance their hearts out, enjoy some cake, and then crash for you! Enjoy your time!” she said, beaming like a ray of sunshine.
I stepped outside into the bright Saturday afternoon, practically singing to the birds in my delight.
I wish it didn’t feel so unconventional to skip grand birthday bashes. My girls will always have a special day, but I refuse to set a precedent that they need to wait for extravagant gestures to feel loved. At the end of the day, kids don’t crave elaborate themes and extensive guest lists. They just want to run around, feel special, and blow out candles. And honestly, I don’t need a spa day; I’d much prefer a peaceful walk.
For more insights into parenting and home insemination, check out this post here. And for a deep dive into pregnancy resources, visit this excellent page. If you’re considering starting your family journey, BabyMaker offers fantastic solutions for home insemination.
Summary:
In this piece, Jenna Thompson shares her candid thoughts on birthday parties, expressing love for her children while dreading the chaos of large celebrations. She reflects on the importance of making kids feel cherished without the need for extravagant gestures, emphasizing that the essence of a birthday lies in simple joys rather than elaborate parties.