Birthday parties. They give me serious anxiety. Not going, but having them. Planning them.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I have birthday party paralysis, but it’s close. When Mr. Serious wants to start talking about planning a birthday party for the oldest two (remember, one day apart), I dodge it. I change the subject, come up with something else, or just ask if we can just hang at home with the family and a cake and call it a success.
But, it’s not fair to them.
It’s not fair to them that I let my own insecurities get in the way of them having a party. I worry about the invites, will they be cute enough? And the party, will the kids and adults have fun? The RSVPs, will they actually come?
This is the biggest stress for me. I want the girls to have fun, and not to be sad or wonder if their classmates don’t like them. I want them to feel loved. Of course, this year it’s not unwarranted. #2 asks on the way to school and on the way home “mommy, are my friends coming to my birthday party?” I don’t have it in me to tell her no, and there is only one kid left to hear back from, so pretty sure that’s a no, too. (ETA: Yep, heard from her. No go.) I know she’s the new kid at her school, but I hoped it would help. Instead I worry that it’s because the other parents don’t know us. (And, it could be the fact that one grandma is throwing a party at the same time on the same day after I sent our invites out. So, I guess they chose that party over #2’s.)
And, then I know it’s just me. Because I still worry about new people liking me. Liking us. Liking the girls. And, it’s like middle school and high school all over again.
But, we do it. Because they deserve a party! And they will have fun with all the adults that are here to honor them!
And the people that don’t come? Well they will be missing out! Because we always throw some pretty awesome parties.