Birthday Parties at Home - 4/23/2009

As the mother of two boys, I recently reflected on one of those "life lessons" you learn pretty early on: Never host a birthday party in your own home.

When my oldest turned a year, I planned a birthday party to be held at home. Other mothers warned me that the first birthday party is more for the parents than the child. Ignoring that little nugget we invited everyone we knew. Friends, family, moms from Gymboree; all were in attendance, along with children of various ages. The cake was ordered and balloons and streamers hung over stacks of brightly wrapped presents. As chaos reigned around us and my son shoved handfuls of Teletubby cake in his mouth, I realized those mothers were right. My son was used to being the center of attention; this was nothing new for him. He couldn't even unwrap presents without our help (and even then he was more interested in the wrapping paper…) This party really was more for us.

Fast-forward a year to our second party at home. This time, I was more judicious with the invitees. Limiting it to my friends from playgroup and their two-year-old sons, I figured a smaller group would be mellower. What I didn't count on was the following equation: (8) two-year-old boys plus (1) cake times (2) hours equals total destruction. When we finished scraping frosting off the walls and the rug, we vowed never to have another birthday party at home.

Subsequent birthdays were spent at the YMCA, the arcade, bowling alleys, the movies and anywhere else that welcomes packs of feral boys with open arms. Though I’ve stuffed piñatas, loaded countless goody bags, and served pizza and cake, not once have I had to clean up! It was worth the extra money for the privilege of walking away from the mess, loading the gifts into the trunk and driving to my nice, clean home.

Years later and faced with a very different economy, I thought I might try to save a few dollars by…gulp…hosting a birthday party at home again. My boys were older (maybe a good thing, maybe not) and with my husband to help, we could get through it. It would be like those challenges on “Survivor”: grueling, exhausting, guaranteed to knock the stuffing out of us, but when it was over we’d be stronger from the experience.

My younger son turned eight and so we decided to invite some friends over for an all-Lego party. Limiting the party to an hour and a half, we dumped all of our Lego pieces in the middle of the basement floor (approximately three million pieces) and let the kids go to town. Fully expecting that they would be bored in about ten minutes, I had several games up my sleeve to fill the remaining time. Surprise, surprise; the kids had to be pried away from the Legos in order to cut the Lego cake. Challenged to be creative, the kids made spaceships, an elaborate Star Wars base and even a Pawn Shop (complete with drunks inside…original!) Each kid left happy, with a $6 Lego set and a handful of candy. Success!

My older son turned eleven just a few weeks later, and I suggested (in a moment of temporary insanity) that he invite a few of his friends for a sleepover! It seemed like a good idea at the time, but as the date approached and my friends said things like “Wow, you’re brave” and “Good luck with that” I started to get apprehensive. The evening was filled with movies, video games and Nerf wars (and the kids with chips, cake and soda). Though we tried to enforce “lights out” at midnight, no one fell asleep till almost 2 a.m. (then woke up at 6:30!) Though I’ve never craved a large family, it was surprisingly fun to have five boys crowded around my breakfast table hoovering pancakes and bacon. By 9 a.m. our house was our own again.

In the end, it cost us about a hundred dollars for both parties (plus a few hours of sleep) and though I felt good about saving money, I felt even better about the priceless memories we had created.