I study the lives of mothers for a living and if there’s one thing that takes the wind out of a mother’s sails, it’s plotting, planning and pulling off a young child’s birthday party.
Man, oh man.
When executing a fete for our first-born’s fourth birthday, we go to ridiculous lengths to make it special. We’re making memories! we tell ourselves…as we kill ourselves to pull everything off.
Once it’s locked and loaded that we—and often we alone—are responsible for creating memories that will last a lifetime in a single Saturday afternoon, we panic. And when we panic, we go into overdrive.
Here’s what that looks like…
Spend hours stalking Pinterest for a few good ideas (and dozens of proof points that you’re a poor excuse for a crafter), scour the earth for email addresses for Evites, wake up in the middle of the night panicked that only two kids will show up, and run yourself ragged bouncing in and out of six stores picking up mediocre tasting chicken nuggets, blue cupcakes embossed with your son’s face, paper blow horns that never work, and a $39.00 piñata that comes with no candy.
Oh, and decorate the whole damn thing by yourself, including blowing up balloons until you’re lightheaded enough to feel like you’re back in high school and just inhaled your first cherry wine cooler.