05 Sep Invitation Overload

Paula Maher tires of her daughter constantly coming to the party.

“Look, Mummy! It’s an envelope, and it has my name on it! Open it, Mummy, open it!” My daughter, Kayla, stands before me, beaming excitedly, holding a pink, glittery envelope covered in fairies. Luckily, she cannot read my mind because I am having the same thoughts I had early this morning as I opened the fridge and the party invitations all fell off their designated magnets and onto the floor. There were Superman ones, Wiggles ones, quite a few Bratz and even a Thomas the Tank Engine one, all with different dates and times during which we are most certainly available (I confess I have rejoiced at the odd double-booking in the past).

‘No! No more! Please, no more party invitations!’ my mind screams as I open the pretty envelope and say, “Oh look, it’s a birthday party!” and I smile a sweet, although internally hysterical, smile. I turn to glance at the birthday girl a short distance away, apparently beaming at the prospect of 20 or 30 children trashing her house. Okay, ‘trashing’ is a strong word, but I am a little irrational regarding this issue.

I counted at least 35 celebrations last year while my child was still at kindy. We received invitations from children from her playgroup, neighbours, relatives and kindy kids.

As I walk out of the school grounds with my excited little girl, my mind is formulating an excuse, which is immediately replaced with gift ideas as I glance at my child waving to the prospective party girl as she walks off with her mother. Once again, I don’t have the heart to lie. All I am left with is the slight hope that we have already accepted a previous invitation to another party at the same time.

It makes me sound so mean-spirited, doesn’t it? I adore kids, and yes, I know each one is special and deserving of a decent, fun gathering to honour the day he or she came into the world, but when will it all end? The way I see it, there is no end in sight, as it will always be someone’s birthday while Kayla is at school. I should be thankful that my little one is so popular, I guess.

Late last year, I decided on ‘payback’, and I conceded to a party of our own. Kayla was so happy, and I felt so guilty about my miserable attitude that I figured she deserved not only a home party but a homemade cake as well.

“Of course, all 30 of them can come, sweetheart,” I said with a sinking heart. I began to plan the event very carefully, from decorations and party games to lolly bags and, of course, a fabulous cake only Mother could make – my mother. Why not me? Well, thank goodness I had the presence of mind to experiment by making a ‘dummy’ cake first; it was not a success.

I also eventually decided to ‘outsource’ the venue. I began to ring around local play centres, which were a little more expensive than I had budgeted for. If it wasn’t for all the gifts I’d had to buy… (there I was, being miserable again).

We held a family meeting and resolved that our local burger joint would be the closest, cheapest and easiest alternative. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve been to 12 parties there, sweetie. At least you know it’s fun. What do you mean you ‘hate’ chicken nuggets?” We compromised in the end. I promised a small get-together at home with family after the main celebration.

We opted for the party to have a fancy-dress theme. This was real payback, as dress-up parties are definitely more demanding because you not only have to make the time to choose and buy a gift, but you have to come up with a costume as well.

A great time was had by all the children as the grown-ups stood close together in a confined space, waiting up to 30 minutes for a coffee in noisy bedlam, occasionally picking up a fallen child, drying a few tears or saving a little girl’s hair from catching on fire from the birthday candles.

I would not say it was all about payback. The look on my little girl’s face was worth every bit of the discomfort I experienced (and I am certain every other parent would claim the same thing after their child’s party).

So, I guess you can fight this thing – the party epidemic – or you can open your heart a little more and imagine what it would feel like to be a fairy or a pirate for a day and be the one everyone has come to see.

Illustrations by Ron Monnier