Can We Talk About Birthday Parties for a Second?

I am mainlining my 5th cup of coffee this morning as I recover from the whiplash of bounce house near-misses, 102 pictures of the birthday boy not smiling and approximately 48 hours spent preparing for a superhero party that lasted just under 2 hours and left me feeling like I’d been on a 4 day bender. What the actual fuck? Why do we do this to ourselves? And do kids even like parties?

I tell myself every time that I will not go thematically overboard, I will not spend all the money at the giant-box-party-store and for the love of all that’s holy I will NOT ever host this in/at/near my actual home again.

3 for 3. Yesterday.

And so, here’s my birthday party survival guide for the mom who just cannot help herself (me):

1. Outsource. Those teenagers at Chuck E. Cheese get PAID to make your little darling smile and btw- they clean that shit up after! Last year, I hosted a party there at 10 am on a Saturday, and I was home by noon sipping a well-earned adult beverage. There’s something to be said for doing none of the things yourself. You get the credit, the adoration of your little, but leave the mess, chaos and cake stains behind. (Clearly, I have amnesia or I would do this all the years.)
2. Don’t ask them what they want to do for their birthday. This was my biggest mistake this year, and this ain’t my first rodeo folks. Those long eye-lashes and sweet toothless smiles sometimes make me lose my mind and agree to a superhero costume/bounce house party for 15 kids. It happens. But don’t let it happen to you. Plan ahead, be subversive in your preparation and spring that party on them like a water balloon raid on a hot July day. They won’t know what hit ‘em. Bonus if you are actually hurling water balloons at them.
3. Related: bounce houses are actually mosh pits for children. This did not occur to me until I was intervening for the 57th time as a small human hurled herself against the springy mesh wall and on top of her friends; the group moving in a frenzied, circular motion. Suddenly I was in high school at a Nirvana cover-band show in my friend’s basement all over again. There may even have been a drop or two of blood. Bounce houses are incredibly fun, until they’re not and you’re pressing Spiderman ice packs to small faces and assuring them their friend didn’t mean to knock them out cold, they were just being silly.
4. The Birthday Kid just wants presents. Not all kids are into the attention or pressure of a party. I sure as fuck wasn’t as a kid and every year found some way to hide during my own party. But damn it, that loot at the end was so worth the anxiety of the 2 hours prior. My kid glares at me for every photo I try to get of him with his friends– and mostly just runs around like a lunatic until they all go home. Last night, I watched my boy un-open package after package. As our superhero population quadrupled before my eyes, I thought, FML, he just wanted THIS. And a bounce house. To himself. Well, shit. That would have been way easier.
5. No one is looking at the thematic balloons/craft/tablecloths/napkins but you. I have a problem when it comes to thematic parties in that I cannot say NO to buying all the THINGS. Give me a theme and I will run with that shit until your eyes are bleeding My Little Pony glitter stickers. If you tell me you love Ghostbusters, you might just show up to Bill Murray sipping spiked ecto coolers in my backyard. But, barring a Billy Murray cameo, REALLY no one is paying attention to the cute little details I put so much time and energy into. Especially not the 7-year-old birthday boy moshing with his friends. So, plain old balloons, pizza, cake and some buddies? Could’a been dunzo like 3 days earlier mama. And probably slightly less psychotic too.

Now, as I write all this I am very aware that there are gonna be some haters out there who are all but it’s YOUR KID, he doesn’t just want presents, he will cherish these memories forever Mean Lady. And I am sure that’s partially true, but it’s also mostly fucking true that I drive myself and everyone around me crazy when it comes to parties. It’s a great lesson in less is more. Yes my kid wants the memories, but he also probably doesn’t want his mama scowling at him while he refuses to smile and all of his friends are saying a sustained “cheeeeeesseeeeeee” for 35 seconds. He probably also would rather I just get my butt into that bounce house with him and smash MY face into some cake alongside him.

Point is, for those of us who cannot help but do the crazy birthday thing– maybe there are small steps, incremental changes, to the approach that would allow us to be slightly more present to the small humans we’ve worked so hard to keep alive for those 3, 5, 7, 17, years vs. getting all loco and making spreadsheets (true story) to project manage a toddler’s birthday. This is a work in progress for this chick right here– and regardless, the BEST part of yesterday was actually today. When he woke up and talked about how fun, funny and awesome his party was.

Thanks dude. And you’re welcome.
Sincerely, Your Crazy Mama

About the author: Kate Buckholz Berrio is a single mom to two boys, and is wild for the truth. She speaks, writes, and wrangles a life of carefully managed chaos. She works full time at a major tech company, performs in local theater and is a contributor on DivorcedMoms.com. She and her boys live in beautiful Charleston, South Carolina. Follow along on her adventures at www.iholdyourheart.com and Twitter (@berrioka).