On Children’s Parties

(James taking a flying leap at his birthday party.)

James turns five today, and we celebrated with a gymnastics party over the weekend.  It was fun, and crazy, and stressful, and it left me reflecting on children’s parties, in general.

This was the first actual birthday party we’ve thrown for James, since his birthday is near Christmas, alongside Ryan’s birthday and my dad’s, and we normally celebrate with a small family party at home.  This year, five seemed like a big deal, so we invited a few children from school and the neighborhood and held the party at our local gymnastics school, our home away from home.  I followed the “age + one” rule and invited six other children, which with our two equalled eight kids altogether.  With a large group of children, you really need structured activities to keep them busy, so I was thrilled that our gym hosts parties on Saturday afternoons.

It was too easy, and we just supplied the cake (I made cupcakes), party favors, and a tablecloth.  Everything was set up when we arrived, and the gym provided drinks and cups.  They don’t recommend serving food besides the cake, since that cuts into the actual playtime.  So, we arrived, everyone played and bounced and jumped and ran, a gymnastics teacher led a few games with a giant parachute, we ate the cupcakes, opened presents, and left.  In and out in less than two hours. Piece of cake!

It wasn’t fancy or Pinterest-worthy at all.  Somehow, my cupcake mix only made 21 instead of 24, a few spilled or melted in the car on the way to the party, and my round tablecloth didn’t even begin to cover the old, rectangular tables, but it all worked out and the kids had fun.

I’ve been to all sorts of children’s birthday parties, from simple, first-year parties at home to lavish, over-the-top affairs at rented-out museums, and they are all pretty much the same.  You’ve got a bunch of overstimulated children, hyped up on sugar and adrenaline, and frazzled parents running around after them.  Kids’ parties, in my experience, aren’t fun at all, and I usually dread them.  I suspect most adults feel the same way deep down inside, even if they aren’t ready to admit it out loud yet.

When I handed an invitation to one mom, she sighed and told me that she’s never had an actual party for her son, because he’s the youngest of three and she just can’t.  I totally empathized with her, and I felt so much relief, too.  Birthday parties are hard, like so many other things that come along with having children, and there’s a lot of pressure to have the perfect day for your child.

I really believe in doing what works best for you, and for us, that was some boxed cupcakes with melted icing and an hour of screaming and bouncing at the local gym.  James had a great day and played his heart out, and maybe when he turns ten, we’ll do it again.