Courtney McGrailIt is very close to ‘that time of year’ again in our house as our three children celebrate their birthdays within a few days of each other. Much like those poor individuals who miss out on a proper birthday celebration because it falls on December 25, having a birthday in such close proximity to not just one but both of your siblings tends to take the gloss of one’s own special day.
When our boys were younger, we could easily talk both into having one generic birthday party, but we always made sure that they had their own specific birthday cake and small family celebration on their special day.
As the boys have grown and developed their own preferences and specific groups of friends, we have made more of an effort to organise separate individually chosen events.
We have run the gauntlet from outdoor pirate parties complete with galleon shaped cakes and treasure chests, right through bouncy castles, football parties and obstacle courses in our back garden; and so endured the general mayhem which inevitably accompanies half a dozen small boys in any reasonably confined space.
We tried the play centre party but it really wasn’t for us. There are always other parties occurring simultaneously and the noise and chaos can be unbearable. I clearly remember one such party where my husband had to cajole a particularly energetic six-year-old off the party table while the rest climbed the birthday tower howling in unison: “Cake, cake, we want cake!”
If you choose to avail yourself of the play centre’s food options, your child indicates their culinary preference and is then affixed to a large label as either a sausage or nugget. After the nerve shredding hour and a half screaming and running fest with inevitable thumps and bumps, they retire to the disco with sticky floor, pop music and what is optimistically described as a meal.
Cake is then presented, happy birthday sung and the exhausted little nuggets and sausages are channelled back for one final hurrah in the play zone.
Yes, I know it’s a bit ‘bah humbug’ of me, but I have always detested these places. Long before my own children brought me old socks and mouldy pretzels discovered at the bottom of the slide in the ball pit, the endless screeching, predictable accidents and the wet bathroom floors decidedly unfriendly towards children wearing only socks, leave me feeling slightly nauseous.
Cost
I find the large black sack filled with an obscene amount of presents for the birthday boy or girl decidedly unsettlingly and the tatty party bag sent home with each child given the astronomical cost of hosting the event in the first place is just scandalous.
So this year, once again, we ready the house for the invasion. I find myself giving thanks for having soccer-mad boys as they have agreed on a joint soccer blitz party for a conglomeration of soccer mad friends and a birthday movie and pizza party each for a handful of close pals. All sorted.
Except that is, for one small thing – their soon to be six-year-old sister. I asked her if she had something in mind for her big day. That was my first mistake! A princess treasure hunt, cup-cake decorating, making necklaces, having nails done with diamonds and sparkles, face painting and dress-up.
The second mistake was to leave the ‘how to make magical birthday cakes’ book which I had resolved to burn after last year’s princess Barbie ice cream cake fiasco out in plain sight.
“Of course darling, that’s no problem at all; are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to go to the play centre?”