In six short weeks, Tori will celebrate her first birthday, crossing the boundary from babyhood into toddlerhood. She, of course, will have no idea that she celebrating such a momentous occasion, but I? I will know.
And I think that milestone sounds like a fantastic reason to get falling down drunk. I mean, come on. After surviving childbirth, six months without a single good night’s sleep, and all the assorted trials, tribulations and nasty surprises the first year had to offer (projectile poop, anyone?), I think mama deserves to let her hair down a little, don’t you?
But since that’s not a socially acceptable way to spend a child’s first birthday, the real dilemma centers around how big of a party to throw. And where.
See, we live many, many miles away from our nearest and dearest, including all Tori’s aunts, uncles (biological and honorary) and grandparents. So while we could invite them all down here for her birthday party, chances are no one but the grandparents would show. I could also bully my friends here into coming, but I’ve attended far too many painfully boring children’s parties to force that particular fate on anyone.
In other words, if I insist on having her birthday here, it will be a quiet celebration. Which isn’t a bad thing. In fact, until very recently, that’s what I thought I wanted. Just me, Brian, Tori and a big old cake to smash all over her face.
But now? That seems kind of lonely. Truth is, after a long winter completely free of family obligations, I kind of miss them. Okay, I really miss them.
Which makes our other option—that of turning her first birthday into a weekend-long road trip to Michigan—seem like a halfway decent idea. Except for the fact that on our last trip home, her screams did permanent damage to our ear drums. She, to put it lightly, is not a fan of her car seat.
So is it fair to subject her to 14 hours of car seat-induced torture, just so I can have the first birthday party I want for her? I don’t know.
Plus, I know if I do bring the party to the people, the grandmas will take over, most likely not letting me pay for much and exhausting themselves in the attempt to throw the perfect party. And that’s not really fair to them, is it?
I also worry that my assorted relatives would think all this is just a ploy to get more presents for her. Which it isn’t (or wouldn’t be). That girl has more toys than any baby needs—especially since her favorite play things are currently a bungee cord and my old electronic piano synthesizer thing.
I really don’t know what to do. So Internet, I’m asking you. Am I worrying too much about all this? Should I just have a quiet party at home, and let the relatives come down when it’s convenient for them? Or should I drag my little family to Motown and make it an occasion to remember?
Or, should I go for option three and just go buy myself a giant bottle of champagne and obliterate my memories of her first year in a sea of bubbles? I do love champagne…
Tell me what to do.