I got the nicest email from a what appears to be a
thoughtful mom of a child invited to my daughter’s 8th birthday
party. In her note, titled “Sophia’s
wish list” (never mind that she misspelled Sofia, the name of the birthday girl
and whose name was written in large letters across the top of the invitation)
she asked for ideas for Sofia’s gift. Thoughtful, right? Then, on the same day, I got a call from
another parent asking what kind of gift Sofia would like. Super, right?
So is this the new thing?
Have we just entered the newest level of super parent that is so
thoughtful they request a wish list? Is
this even a good thing? Not for me; not
if this means that the new norm now is that parents have to not only figure how
to get to their child to their birthday parties on, with a gift, but now they
(let’s face it, I am really talking about me here) am I now going to have to
make sure to plan ahead and get a response on birthday gift suggestions?
I hate to disappoint, so let me just tell all you all that I
will probably not be calling or emailing to find out about your child’s wish
lists. Not that I don’t want your child
to have every single little plastic toy their hearts desire; I really do. I just don’t have the time, energy,
organizational skills or money to take that request. And I’m not sure that birthdays should focus
so much on the gift giving.
Quite frankly, it is amazing that I (err, I mean my child)
shows up with any gift at all. The shear
amount of effort it takes to get the gift, wrap it, and get to the party on
time is unbelievable. Maybe not for a
super parent, but it is really hard for me to coordinate all the complexities
that is attending a child’s birthday party.
Like that one time, when Sofia’s friend was having a
gymnastics party. Super cool; a party 20
miles away at 1 pm on Saturday afternoon. I felt strong and capable; I could do
this! I left the house with both of my
girls fully dressed and mostly ready at 11:30; plenty of time to stop at K-mart
and get the gift, get it wrapped, drive to the party and drop of for a good
time.
I got to K-mart, got the gift only to realize I had left the
gift bag at home. Back into K-mart to
discover that bags that are not re-gifted from Grandparent gifts cost another
$4-5 dollars. Really? That is ½ of what I spent for the gift (oh,
and don’t get me started on budgets for kids birthday gifts—that is a whole
other post). I bit the bullet and got
the bag. All was swell.
Within 5 minutes, right around 12:15 I hear “I’m so
hungry”. Shnickies. Lunch.
I totally forgot to plan for lunch. “OK, you can have cake at the party”
is what I want to say, but we are an ADHD bunch here…sugar lunches lead to
hours of the kinds of stories you will read about in other posts; much less
happy posts.
“Mom, I’m starving. I
have to eat NOW”.
“OK, I’ll stop and get you a taco”. Problem solved. Good mom. Tacos are healthy, right??
We stopped and got the taco.
So by this point, it was 12:30 and we had just enough time to get to the
party on time. I hit the road to drive
the 20 miles, when what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a little red
light on my gas gage. Surely I could
make it to the gymnastics exit…15 miles later, I pull off, and find a gas
station 3 miles the other direction. No
worries; I’m getting gas. Smile. It is ok.
It is still 5 minutes to 1. The
girls are fed and the gift is in the bag.
I’m a good mom.
As I was getting gas, an argument ensued between my two
delightful daughters which resulted in them spilling the mostly full soda they
got at the taco place right on the newly purchased, newly expensively wrapped
gift. I mean all over. I mean, it was as if someone took the lid of
off that sprite and poured into the gift bag.
That bag was in really bad shape.
“Opps, it is OK;
accidents happen…we’ll be fine” did not come out of my mouth. In fact, there was nothing kind or good
mom-ish coming out of my mouth. It was
more the “are you serious? Are you
kidding me? I can’t even believe this”
and many other really loud, unhappy comments.
I paid, got back in the car and did my best to salvage the tissue
paper and bags. The gift looked
horrible. It was 1:00 and the party had started. I was 5 miles away with a wet bag and two
crying girls. Not looking pretty, but
still salvageable, I thought.
Back in the drivers seat--only 5 miles; we should only be a
few minutes late. Of course that would
be true if this gymnastics place was in a convenient location with lots of signs,
not in an industrial park, 2 miles down a mostly unpaved road without any
signs. Factoring in the time spent
driving the extra 5 miles, then looking for the sign-less place, then pulling
out to step out of the car to take a deep breath as to not harm my children, it
ended up being another 30 minutes.
1:30. That is when we
showed up for the party with a wet gift and two very grumpy girls.
Imagine the complexity if I had to buy a specific gift? Not gonna happen with me. You’ll be lucky if your kid gets a new gift, (yes…we
are sometimes re-gifters, not the kind with mostly new, unopened packages. My kids tear open every gift they get as soon
as they get it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop them from giving an item to their
friends) After many fiascos. I learned my lesson. So now I’ve given that task
over to my kids. I’m one of those moms
that will trust my kids to know their friends well enough to pick out a gift
for them (doesn’t that sound so much better than being a mom that doesn’t buy
my kid’s friends toys). It makes my life
a bit easier, and gives my kids the ownership of being the person responsible
for their friendship.
When birthday invitations come, I give it to the kids and
let them know that if they want to get a new gift, they will need to pick
something out between $10-$15 dollars next time I’m at the store. It also means
that there is a good chance your kids will get a gift that might not be
beautiful, might not even be new, but hopefully, it is a representation of our
children’s friendship.
OK, now I have to go and buy party favors. Don’t even get me
started on party favors!
