Somewhere between three and four years old my oldest became hyper aware of his birthday. Up until now we’d gotten off pretty easy with an over the top party every other year with quiet at home cake and ice cream celebrations filling in the years between those festivals du Malcolm.
We were especially committed to the idea of a party every other year once we had our now one year old daughter.
Eden’s birthday came and went with a fun celebration in honor of her first year. Mal had a blast and talked about it for weeks.
But then one fateful afternoon my husband and I showed up at school to pick him up. He was waiting in his classroom excited as ever with no less than FIVE party invitations from his classmates.
I was perfectly okay with this right up to the part where Malcolm started talking about his party and which of his friends he was planning to invite.
This is where the needle scratched the record.
My feeble attempts to explain to the 4 year old master manipulator that this was not a “party year” fell on deaf ears. He already had a guestlist and possibly an outfit worked out.
And then the mommy guilt set in. I turned to my husband and announced we HAD to do a little something for him.
Just a friend … or 12.
Some cupcakes …maybe a dessert table. See the rest »