Rory Fitzgerald
Last weekend, we had royalty in the house. A gaggle of six-year-old princesses, to be precise. Our eldest girl turned six and she insisted on having a girls-only princess party. We’ve never encouraged our girls to play only with traditionally girlie toys or to wear pink, but from an early age Rose’s favourite colour has been pink – and the more unsubtle the shade, the better.
Birthdays are a huge deal for children at that age. Rose had been counting down the days for months. She had been leafing through magazines to select the cake she wanted her mother to make. She had been imagining the day and deciding what she might do.
Our regular trips to our local castle, which even hosts jousting events in summer, had fired her imagination about all things medieval and so the idea of a princess party was alighted upon.
Yet there is something in this desire of small girls to be princesses for a day. There is of course something stereotypical and even saccharine about it, and Chinese t-shirt factories do very well printing millions of t-shirts with ‘Daddy’s little princess’ emblazoned on them.
Speaking as someone who has survived more than one princess-themed event, I also think that there is something quite important in it.
It is perhaps a particularly feminine expression of the natural desire small children have to know that they are valued, they are special, and that their existence is something to be celebrated.
Ultimately, a birthday shows a small child that they are loved. Their parents arrange a big party. Grandparents, godparents, uncles and aunts all send cards and presents. Their friends come together for the event with cards and gifts. The day is marked in school with an announcement from the head teacher at assembly. For one day, a small child is made to feel very important.
Small children are ordinarily beholden to do what adults tell them, but their birthday sees them call the shots for a day.
We always let the child decide what family outing to go on for their birthday weekend.
Rose had long been fascinated by the spinnaker tower, a modern 300 foot tower overlooking the Solent, with a viewing platform on top. She decided that we should all go up there.
What’s more, she specified that we were not to travel from the Isle of Wight to Portsmouth on the boring old car ferry, but instead upon the hovercraft!
There were some very excited little faces as the hovercraft rose up above the sands and glided out over the water at high speed.
We had cake at the very top of the tower and even went to the naval museum nearby, where we explored the amazing 250-year-old HMS Victory, or “the pirate ship” as Rose insisted upon calling it. I was excited as the kids at all the old naval paraphenalia.
Adventure
There was even an element of an old sea-going adventure on our trip home as a gale had whipped up and it was quite an exhilarating and bumpy ride home, as we skimmed over the white caps.
Birthdays also provide a chance to have a reflective moment with the child; to tell her how much she is loved, to tell her about the day was when she was born, and how overjoyed we were to have her enter our lives.
Small children never tire of tales of their being born, perhaps because the great adventure of coming into the world is so recent for them.
When our newly-minted six-year-old was tucked in to bed that night, after a magical birthday weekend, there was a smile on her face that showed just how profoundly loved she felt.