My son’s second birthday was last week, and my husband and I did something crazy to celebrate it.
We didn’t have a party.
From a practical standpoint, a celebration didn’t make much sense. We’ve just returned from vacation, and I barely had time to shop for groceries before my son’s birthday, let alone pull together any kind of bash. Plus it’s summer, and so many of our friends are out of town. And hosting parties doesn’t fit into our budget right now; I wanted to put more money into our travels and less money into things at home.
So here’s what we didn’t do: We didn’t invite Everest’s friends over. We didn’t have goodie bags. We didn’t hang balloons.
Here’s what we did instead: Ev received a few presents, which he eagerly unwrapped. I made a lunch with his favorite foods. My husband lit a candle on a cupcake, we sang the happy birthday song, and all of us clapped with joy.
Then our son licked all the icing off the cake, cried and asked for applesauce. (Which is weird because if you give me applesauce, I’ll cry and ask for cake.)
Overall, he was happy.
But in the days since, I haven’t stopped wondering if I made a mistake. He only turns 2 once, after all. Did we miss out? More importantly, am I withholding something special and meaningful from my son?
This is that fine line we walk as parents — finding the path that winds between the fun and the frivolous, deciding what’s necessary and what’s indulgent, determining what creates strength of character and what scars a person for life. And when it comes to birthdays, I’m at a loss for what to do.
I know I take care of my child. He is clean, safe, fed, and loved. But I also want him to experience the joy of being celebrated: the laughter and squeals from a crowd of friends, the sound of an entire room singing a song just for you, the sense of importance on this day, in this family, as part of this community.
At the same time, my son is only two. Birthday parties at this stage are more of a performance for the parents, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’m fine with creating memories with my child that only I will keep.
I’m a summer baby myself, so I grew up without special birthday treats at school or parties where the whole class was invited. Every year I pined for crepe paper, decorations, and a cake from a bakery, and every year I was resigned to a slab of lopsided, Duncan Hines yellow cake at home. It was fine, but it wasn’t the celebration I thought birthdays deserved. And while I knew I was loved, I certainly didn’t feel like my birthday was anything special for my family.
When I became an adult, I overcompensated for the lack of childhood festivities by blowing out my birthday week, instead of just one day. (I call it Maggie Gras, and it’s fabulous.)
I realize my son probably won’t remember this birthday at all, so I think I’m safe for this year.
But I don’t want to make the low-key fête a habit. The last thing I want is for my son to ever feel unimportant or as though this day doesn’t matter. Because he does matter. His birth rearranged my life, and every day I’m thankful for this funny, wild, curious boy.
The very least I can do is invite a few people over and decorate the house.
Next year.
How do you feel about toddler birthday parties?
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