REAL-LIFE MUMS

A Working Mum’s Perspective of Birthday Parties

Pinterest LinkedIn Tumblr

Lisa lets it out, “I hate kids Birthday Parties”. With mounting pressure to keep up with escalating extravagance for children’s birthday parties.

she decides to make a bold stand and opt out of Birthday parties in favour of mum-daughter holidays. I’m going to share a fact with you right now that might result in you spitting out whatever hot beverage you’re consuming or cause you to want to throw a heavy object at a picture of my head, so my advice would be to stop drinking immediately and move away from all objects not connected to the floor or plugged into an electrical socket.

This fact is humiliating to admit and it’s a game changer in terms of parenting. Good, loving, decent mothers shouldn’t feel this way. But I do. And I want to get it off my chest because I’ve kept it inside for too long. The fact is, I hate children’s birthday parties. Yes. You read correctly. I hate them. Including the birthday parties of my own child. I don’t want to have them and I get absolutely no joy out of attending them.

 

“I am a busy working mum who still loathes the thought of organising a child’s birthday party.”

Let me go so far as to say that I cringe at the thought of year, after year, after bloody year, having to come up with a plethora of brilliant, new, innovative ideas so that my child can have a better party than Sally up the road, because hers was a circus theme with proper clown machines where you can stick balls into their mouths and all the kids ate fairy floss and toffee apples and would you believe that her mother hired ponies for the kids to ride on the front lawn and it gets better because Tinkerbell herself flew all the way from Pixie Hollow just to say hello as she is great friends with Sally’s mum. Oh please. Give me a break. Without a party planner I cannot afford and a thousand helpers I can’t pay on the day, I’m not going to be able to top Sally’s party EVER.

But I’m not ignorant to the pressures on kids these days to fit in with their peer groups and to be able to talk about awesome experiences their parents have bestowed upon them.

So I’ve worked out my modus operandi to explain to my precious child for years to come why this is the case and why she is never, ever, going to have a fantastic birthday party like Sally. I’m going to lie. Well ok. If that sounds too harsh let’s say I’ll stretch the truth.

I’m going to tell Bells (my three year old) that mummies only have a certain amount of money for one special thing every year, and Sally’s mummy uses her money to hire ponies that hate being ridden by annoying children who grab them by the hair and kick them in the ribs so they go home and cry. Hopefully she will see the error of Sally’s mother’s ways and ask what special thing we will do for the year. Which will be my cue to explain that we do a much more special thing than Sally’s diabetes-enabling, pony-abusing, mother because I take us both to Bali where we swim for hours in the pool and Mummy drinks Daiquiris which make her relaxed and fun and, really Bells, if you had to choose would you prefer a happy mummy or diabetes in later life?

Yep. I reckon I’m on a winner with that one. Sally’s mum is probably having a nervous breakdown from the stresses of organising a small child’s birthday party of epic proportions while I am sitting on my couch googling Bali Villas and thinking about how many Christmas presents I can buy in one Balinese DVD store. What can I say? I’m super practical.

But I’m not ignorant to the pressures on kids these days to fit in with their peer groups and to be able to talk about awesome experiences their parents have bestowed upon them.

I’m sharing all of this with you because my daughter turned three in October. I can recall like it was yesterday being asked to feature on the cover of the inaugural Offspring magazine when she was only a few months old. But I can honestly say that back then, I wasn’t sure I should do it.

I was just easing into my breakfast show on 92.9 and by easing I mean struggling. Being up from 3.30am whilst breastfeeding and thinking of strategies to get inside Lady Gaga’s hotel room are a lot to deal with, and I felt quite alone as I’m not the type of person to let on that I was finding circumstances tough or that I wasn’t getting enough sleep. Unfortunately both were the case but I kept those emotions locked away and I pushed on because I had no other option. I had to work to earn money, I’d made a commitment to my co-hosts and I’d said I was ready to come back. Also, I was not a typical role model parent (I was a single mum working full-time and living with my Dad), and these facts only served to lower my self-esteem and I absolutely doubted my capabilities as a parent. So to be approached by a parenting magazine to talk about parenting was completely out of my realm. But I hesitantly said yes.

I was met at my house a few days later by a young girl who looked about 18 years old. It turns out she was Offspring’s founder and editor, Kate, and after chatting with her for a few hours I realised there were others out there juggling being mothers and wives, while taking on jobs and careers that are, to be brutally honest, really bloody challenging. That day was, as they say, a game changer. My meeting with Kate opened my eyes to the fact that there are lots of women doing more challenging jobs than me and doing them well.

Since then I have become less hard on myself about the parenting decisions I have made and will continue to make. I am a busy working mum who still loathes the thought of organising a child’s birthday party. So when my workplace offered to do just that for Isabella, I jumped at the opportunity and it was an absolute blast. The very first ‘Baby Rave’ in Perth on the rooftop of my station. There were 30 kids dressed up as little Ravers, 30 parents who were thrilled they didn’t have to do anything at all, a kiddy dance floor, Wiggles music blasting through a loudspeaker, kids dancing while shoving handfuls of lollies into their mouths, bubble machines, balloon animals and a Miss Maud’s Dora Backpack cake. Brilliant. Because I organised nothing. I wonder what Sally’s mum would’ve thought? But then again, should I really care if my kid had fun on her birthday?

Write A Comment