Death of the Birthday Party
I have thrown 25 birthday parties in 9 years.
How I have survived I literally cannot fathom.
At first they seemed a right of passage, for both myself and my children. I surely deserved to celebrate the accomplishment of getting them through another year alive, and I felt that they should have a big to-do about not accidentally killing themselves. At first, I enjoyed proving myself a decent hostess and cook, I spent hours baking and decorating, we hemorrhaged cash on party favors, decorations and food.
It was worth it, for awhile.
Perhaps if we had ended our spawning at 2 children, the birthdays would not have gone from stressful, yet fun, to a secret circle of hell. However, with five birthdays to celebrate every year, I plan a birthday party every 2 1/2 months. I spend a week before each party barking orders at my children, stressing about food and a guest list that seems to constantly change. Two days before whichever birthday is currently driving me crazy, I cook and clean constantly, spending little time with my children and yelling at them to “clean up!” during the moments that I do see them.
Where did my quality time go? I miss bedtime stories and park time. This sucks!
When the day of the party finally arrives I nearly have a conniption fit! I never seem to have everything as together as I had hoped. The birthday child always appears to have been possessed by demons and I dislike him/her ALL day. On a day when I should be showering them with love and affection, I want to whack the evil out of them. I always wonder why I am so tired and irritable, why my husband seems to be fine with “going with the flow” but I am stressing about stupid little details, making excuses when I think things should have gone better, when the cake isn’t perfect, when the dip is too spicy or too sweet. This is a freaking nightmare!
This last party was my final straw.
After having to reschedule the date of the party, I seemed to be planning a party no one was able to attend. I spent days getting ready. The weather didn’t cooperate and everyone roasted their butts off, my birthday boy was a mother friggin’ heathen from hell and I spent the day wishing I could just go home and chug a bottle of wine. Everyone who came was amazing, they seemed to have fun and didn’t notice my stress. But I was a mess.
I am done.
Lets not forget the fact that no one really looks forward to attending birthday parties. Kids do, I guess, but they just create more insanity soooooo…..who cares?
In a day and age when most of us are struggling with our own financial black holes, getting birthday invites is a call to flush another chunk of cash down the toilet. And I don’t know a single parent who really wants their kids to accumulate more crap anyway. I heartily thank everyone who sends a card with moolah for their savings accounts, you people are brilliant saviors of my organizational peace of mind. However I would be just as happy with nothing and getting some quality time with family and friends in a non-party atmosphere instead.
Thus I have broken the news to my children that they will only get parties on the landmark years; one, five, ten, and 16, and in between we will have a fun family activity day instead. I don’t care if they want to stay in their pajamas and eat ice cream all day or go Put-Put Golfing while shoving nachos in their face. As long as I get to enjoy my children and actually celebrate the birth of one of them instead of crying in the corner over the state of the cake, I will be happy.
Good-bye Birthday Party! I shall not miss thee!
Please do not contact me until a child reaches a milestone year and you better hope I have sufficient party amnesia by that time… or you may die a painful death.
Brandi is a mother of 5 and workout enthusiast. She spends her time cooking and attempting to keep up with housework, but generally failing. She also works part time as a bartender and blogger. You can check out her blog, Big Fit Fam and follow her on Facebook.
