Levi’s 6th birthday came and went, and I didn’t blog about it. I guess this is sort of a blog about it, but not the kind of where-did-the-time-go, my-baby-is-growing-so-fast kind of birthday blog post. This is more the birthdays-are-a-pain-in-my-ass, I’m-a-shitty-mother-for-saying-so kind of blog post.
I don’t know, maybe I wouldn’t resent it so much if his birthday fell in the summer when we don’t have so much going on and we could just invite a bunch of kids to run around in the backyard, stuff them all with cake and send them home, sugar-juiced and happy. Resent is a strong word -– to say out loud to a judging public who wonders why I went to so much trouble to birth babies only to turn around and bitch about celebrating their births.
Maybe I’d rather actually give birth than plan a birthday party. I mean, it’d be the third time, and there is absolutely no traffic on that exit ramp. That sucker would just slip right on out without much effort, and then I could stay in bed for at least a day. There is no rest for a birthday party planner.
I know there are those of you who live to plan. You host parties just so you can show us your planning acumen. I’ve received your adorably stylized birthday party invitations, which your art department designed. I’ve attended those parties with decorations that light up and glitter and pulse to music, cakes that could easily be displayed on museum walls and party favors – all color-coordinated and within theme. Worse are you party planners who are not only innovative but who pull it all together on a shoe-string budget because you are frugal and resourceful on top of everything else. You’ve shopped in every dollar store and raided the recycling and found tucked away shops that carry exactly what you need to give your uniquely tailored party that certain something that makes me walk into your event space turned Birthday Xanadu and say, “shit.”
I don’t begrudge you your effort and creativity. I admire you – envy you even. The entire process from invitations to thank you cards makes me shvitz and worry and wish I that I were that someone else who finds pleasure in planning. Instead, I’m that parent who writes a big check to have someone else do all the planning for me and who delivers a party-in-a-can that is perfectly fine.
Levi had a wonderful time, of course, at his gymnastics birthday party. Then again, he has a wonderful time eating broccoli. He’s that kind of kid. He never knew nor ever will know how much I stress the birthday. He should only have, and I quote the birthday boy, the best day ever.
Asher’s birthday is in November. He does not care for parties. Then again, he does not care for sunshine. He’s that kind of kid. We all take the day off of work and school and do Asher’s bidding – within reason, of course. On that day, he is my favorite.
Levi is 6. He had a super awesome birthday, and I survived. Only 360 days left until the next one. I should start planning now.
|I have no problem writing checks for heavenly, exquisite cupcakes from Swirled Bakery that are nothing less than divine and artful. Check out the website for a gallery of goodness.|
|Not a bad day for Mom, truth be told.|