by Stella Forth
Yep, he turned 1. I know I’m supposed to say “Where did time go?”, but it really feels more like “Wow, we survived and did pretty darn good to have this somewhat well rounded really happy and healthy kid.”
But as a mom, you know it, you plan things. You get the perfect picture and put together the printed invitation and then you send it to everyone and hope for RSVPs. Then you have to find the cake – or cupcakes. This was actually quite the discussion between myself and my husband. Do we get a smash cake and a big cake? Or do we get a small smash cake for him and many cupcakes. Then we found a bakery that does minicupcakes. Now we have mini cupcakes, big cake, cupcakes or small cakes to choose from. Seriously? So then we debated mini cupcakes vs. regular cupcakes – would parents be offended if their 4 year old had a mini cupcake allotted for him rather than a regular cupcake and what if we ran out? Then, what if we had hot dogs and sausages and hot dogs for kids and sausages for adults but then if adults ate hot dogs, and should we have a vegetarian or gluten free option? (For the record, we love to host, but I despise not being able to have options for those folks who need or want them) Then you have to have a banner and cupcake toothpick decoration thingys (what are those called Etsy!?) and then you have a 1st birthday candle (and OMG, will he try and touch the flame?) and how to do you time said events on the day of? and dear Lord husband did you put extra TP in the guest bathroom? Then you go on Pinterest AGAIN just so you can feel inadequate at adulting.
So the day of you get up, the husband gets up, and you are so thankful that the object of celebration slept in an hour extra, because now you’ve arranged flowers (yes. you did.) and sent the hubster out for ice, cupcakes, more sausage (yes, his birthday was a sausage fest). Then you make sure candles are lit, dogs have peed (because kids are afraid of big dogs and must be kenneled during the festivities!) and then you have to…I don’t know…whiz some make up and a comb through your hair and pretend like this all came together effortlessly despite having lost weight during the morning alone of sweating it out over boil hot dogs and cooking up sausages and making sure you can fit 4 boxes worth of cupcakes and cake into your fridge while making sure the potato salad gets made and stays salmonella free during the preparations.
Then you party. We threw parties. Yep, you saw that, plural. Because you have the kid party – you know the download of all the friends who have small children to gather round and bring all the toys together to the center of a room for some sort of mosh pit celebration and then you rip your kid out, put him in a high chair and let him squeeze buttercream through his paws until it makes a trendy chocolate facial on his face and then everyone goes “awh!” and then you awkwardly sit in the middle and open up his gifts for him because he’s so excited about the truck that you bought him weeks ago that he just now noticed instead of the amazing cars and books and things that his friend’s parents have gone out on their own crazy busy schedule to buy so you can celebrate the coming of age numero uno that your kid has no idea what it means or why these people are all up in his kool aid and don’t know the flavor….and by the way (run on sentence, don’t care), what the heck is kool aid he wonders.
Then you have the adult party – where your adult friends get together on the actual day of your kids birth and you drink the margaritas and say “YAY! You have survived Parenthood: Year 1!” and you smash cake in your kids face again, because let’s be honest, that’s cute.