It’s 9:30 p.m., just two days before my little one’s third birthday. After a long day, my partner and I have finally managed to get our four kids into bed—though some are still wide awake. I sit down with my laptop, my mind racing as I try to come up with a gift for my youngest. We already have so many toys at home!
With only a few hours left before the cut-off for two-day shipping, I know I’m cutting it close. Even if I place the order immediately, her gifts won’t arrive until 9 p.m. on her big day. Yikes.
Let me be clear: I adore birthdays. Growing up, my mom made them unforgettable. Each year, we had a creatively themed birthday bash with friends, plus a family celebration where we could choose any meal we wanted—no matter how bizarre the combination. There were gifts, new outfits, and homemade treats to share with classmates. It was pure magic, and I want to instill that love of birthdays in my four children. So far, I’ve done well—until now.
Having four kids means we are officially a big family. With two kids, it feels manageable; three pushes the limits, but four? We’re a loud, chaotic bunch with big feelings, and yes—six birthdays a year. That’s a lot of planning.
I’m not sure how my daughter’s birthday snuck up on me. It’s always the same date, yet somehow, it caught me off guard. I can’t help but feel that her birthday, falling right after school starts in that awkward in-between season of summer and fall, means she’s getting the short end of the stick.
Do I feel guilty that her birthday gifts ended up being strawberry toothpaste, a board book, and a Daniel Tiger t-shirt? A little, I suppose. I kept checking the tracking information obsessively, hoping it would make the gifts arrive sooner.
On the eve of her birthday, my partner dashed to the grocery store for watermelon popsicles—her chosen birthday snack. And in a moment of guilt and poor planning, he also picked up brownie mix and ice cream. After all, birthdays are all about indulging, right?
The morning of her birthday started with hugs and kisses. When she asked, “Can I open presents?” I hesitated and checked my phone again for the delivery status. The account assured me the packages were on their way.
Later that day, my daughter and two of her siblings were invited to a friend’s birthday party. That’s right—my kid was at someone else’s celebration on her own birthday. They had a fantastic time at the play center. But the fun took a turn when they returned home.
While my tween and I prepared brownies, the baby burst through the door crying. Her right ear was in pain, and no amount of comforting seemed to help. I grabbed the thermometer and noted a low fever. Great. I quickly dressed her, buckled her into the car, and sped to urgent care. Fortunately, there was no wait—thank you, birthday luck—and in just 45 minutes, we learned she had a significant ear infection. We left with a prescription and a bit of relief.
By the time we got home, her pain relief had kicked in, and she was feeling a bit better. Is it time for presents yet? My partner texted me to say the gifts had finally arrived.
As soon as we got home, I handed my now three-year-old over to her dad and wrapped her gifts from my closet. Emerging with a mismatched stack of wrapped presents, I was met with her excited squeals.
Despite my worries, she genuinely loved her gifts. Who knew toothpaste could be so thrilling? She cheered for her t-shirt, recognizing all the beloved character faces. The board book? She immediately placed it in her bed, eager to read it later that night.
Her birthday dinner consisted of leftovers, which didn’t excite her, so we gave her a popsicle instead. It’s a fruit serving, right? Besides, you should enjoy whatever you want on your birthday.
As the evening wore on, she became tired and cranky, so we quickly bathed her, dressed her in pajamas, promised to wash her new t-shirt for the next day, and tucked her into bed. My other kids complained about not having brownies and ice cream. I told them to deal with it—it wasn’t their birthday.
The next evening, we finally celebrated with dessert. It was a birthday weekend, after all. We had three dollar-store candles stashed away, and I quickly stuck them in the brownies. We sang, cheered, and dove in.
A couple of days later, she came home from preschool proudly wearing a paper birthday crown. For days, she wandered around the house with it, and when it went missing, she wailed, “Where is my crown?!?” The one thing that brought her the most joy was a simple crown made of shiny cardstock.
I realized my worries were unfounded. Her birthday was special—not just that day, but it continued for several days. She received ample attention, which I believe is her love language. The inexpensive gifts brought her immense joy, proving that kids simply want to feel special.
Parents often feel pressured to throw extravagant, Pinterest-worthy parties, complete with classroom celebrations and family gatherings. We believe we must check all the boxes to show our love. But what I learned from what I thought was my birthday blunder is that the real magic lies in making children feel cherished. Sometimes, the spontaneous surprises create the most memorable moments.
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Summary
This article reflects on the chaos of parenting and the unexpected joys of celebrating a child’s birthday amidst the hustle of family life. It emphasizes the importance of making children feel special rather than adhering to societal pressures for extravagant celebrations.