The Birthday Party Fiasco

Birthday '80s Style

I sit here trying to remember going to my first birthday party with friends.  However, the earliest memory I can conjure is of my 8th birthday, when my mom and sisters piled 10-12 girls into two cars and took us to Happy Joe's Pizza and Ice Cream.  I either remember this because it was the first party I'd ever had and this was quite an event - pizza, ice cream,  and barrels of hard candy - or because there is a picture documenting the event - a bunch of little girls sitting at a long table, holding up pizza, making silly faces while wearing goofy glasses, plaid shirts, corduroys, jumpers, and sporting feathered or Dorothy Hamill inspired hair.  You gotta love the styles and lack of seat belt laws in October, 1981.

Then again, maybe this was the first birthday party I ever attended, which wouldn't surprise me because when I was growing up, we started everything later than kids do now.  In my hometown, T-ball didn't start until the summer after first grade, and kids were sent to a preschool if "problems" were detected during a Kindergarten Round-up screening (and yes, I went to preschool because I was identified with a hearing issue after not being able to hear the beeps during my screening - due to having pneumonia and an ear infection at the time).

Fast forward almost 30 years.  My kids went to preschool - Ellie started at four and Tate at two.  Soccer began for Ellie in the spring right after she turned five; Tate started basketball at the same age.  Birthday invitations started rolling in for Ellie when she was four and for Tate when he was three.  So I guess the following should come as no surprise:

• During Tate's two year old preschool assessment, when asked to identify shapes, he answered such difficult questions with, "Pink!  You!  Me! Two!" Although, he did know oval.
• The little girls on Ellie's 5 year old soccer team just wanted to chase butterflies and hang from the goals.  "What's for snack?" was the most crucial soccer related question. 
• Cartwheels and kung fu fighting were incorporated into the game of basketball last season. In addition, Tate went through a phase of falling down and rolling across the lane every time ran down the court on defense. 

The one thing we waited on was birthday parties.  Sometimes it was because we didn't know the parents - I can't imagine dropping off my three or four year old in the care of someone I don't know.  Other times the schedule just didn't work out.  However, once Ellie hit school age, we started letting her go to parties, but she never wanted us to leave. I once waited in the van during the winter when it was -10 degrees and graded papers for two hours.  Another time, I sat at the bar of bowling alley/pizza/game joint, drinking Sprite and grading papers on a Sunday afternoon while my daughter played at a party.  However, Ellie is my worrier, and even though she is extremely social, she gets nervous in situations when she doesn't know someone's parents.  Stranger danger? Fair enough.

Tate is not normally my worrier, but apparently developed a fear of birthday parties as well, which brings me to last night.  This was going to be the first time Tate, age almost seven, went to a birthday party that involved someone outside of our close circle of family and friends.  This would be the party where he could play laser tag, video games, eat pizza and cupcakes, drink soda and belch, and run wild with a group of boys his own age.  He even told me at 3:30 yesterday, "Mom, just stay for a little while, and then you can go."  However, by 5:59, one minute till party-time, that turned into, "Mom, can you stay?"  By 6:03 when we walked in and all his friends yelled, "Tate!" he hid behind his father and shoved his head up Pete's sweatshirt.  At 6:04, Pete took him aside to talk to him while I explained to Birthday Mom that this is Tate's first big party, and she kindly reassured me that she's been through this as well.  At 6:06, Tate ran to the entryway, crying.  Ellie followed to let him know how she, too, used to feel this way, but birthday parties are so much fun!  At 6:07, I relieved Ellie, but Tate fled the premises and ran outside into the cold, blustery evening, still clutching the Spider-Man gift bag and now blowing snot bubbles out of his nose with every sob.  The nurturing side of me won out over the annoyed side of me, who knew if he gave it a chance, he'd have a blast.  I was able to patiently listen to his fears between sobs, "But..sniff..Mom..sniff..what if I...sniff...get hurt?...sniff.....W-W-What....sniff...if I...I...sniff...slip and fall....sniff...in a puddle....sniff....of water..sniff..and hit....sniff....my head?  All this coming from a child who normally has no regard for his physical well-being.

Finally, by 6:15, I was able to coax him back inside.  He still didn't want to go, but I thought if I could get him to tour the joint, he'd be able to see how much fun he could have.  Luckily, the other boys had proceeded to laser tag, so we were able to check out all the video games and warm up (both figuratively and literally, after being outside on a cold October evening) to the place.   By the time the boys came out of laser tag, he still didn't want me to leave, but at least told Birthday Boy, "Happy Birthday" and said, "Thank you" when Birthday Dad handed out the gaming cards.  At his request, I stayed with him and watched him play a few games, and while helping another boy retrieve an errant basketball from a game, Tate disappeared into the crowd of kids playing video games.  At 6:35, I found Tate laughing and gaming with his best friend and let him know I was going to go have dinner with his dad and sister.  At 8:05, we finally left with a sweaty, exhilarated boy baring Dracula teeth, who asked, "Can we come back tomorrow?"

After last night, I realized that it's okay if they are scared to go to parties. It's okay if they don't take sports seriously or aren't well-versed in naming shapes.  I can't compare them to my era because it was a different era, and I was older when I first experienced these same things. For situations like these, I've determined that I need to apply the method we used to potty-train our kids:  Be patient, understanding, and encouraging because no matter what, they will overcome their fears and achieve success when they're ready.