The first birthday I can remember is my fifth birthday. It was the first time I was allowed to invite friends to my party, and I couldn’t have been more excited.
I remember my mom printed off Strawberry Shortcake invitations from somewhere, and I seem to remember coloring them in. I also think I remember delivering them to some of my friends.
It was at my house, that much I’m sure of. And there was a rainbow cake (still one of my favorite kinds of cake). There were probably games, and I’m sure there were presents, but mostly I remember being warm and happy and safe in the knowledge that lots of people loved me.
It wasn’t fancy. There was no strawberry soda fountain. No personalized treat bags purchased from an Etsy artisan. No customized decorations with my name and birth date.
But it was perfect.
So why do I feel so much pressure to put on a perfectly pinteresting birthday party?
We’ve already decided Tori’s birthday party will be at her dance studio. For a little over a hundred bucks, we get two hours of their time, two instructors to teach the kids a special birthday ballet dance, goodie bags, a few decorations, and, most important (to me at least), a clean space in which to host it.
I know Tori will love it even if I do nothing other than pick up a cake at the grocery store and sign the check.
But I? I am getting carried away.
I am scouring the internet for the perfect ballerina invitations.
I am wondering if I should get some ballet-themed cookie cutters so I can make pink, sparkly confections for her cake table (I am thinking she needs a “cake table”).
I am trying to talk myself into creating homemade tutus for every little girl who attends.
I am even thinking of taking a day or two off beforehand to prepare.
I am being dumb.
Truth is, I don’t even have time to clean my house (thus, the off-site birthday party). Where do I get off thinking I can accomplish all these other fabulous things?
I blame Pinterest.
Pinterest makes everything seem so easy, so fabulous, so, so…necessary. Spend too much time there and you’ll find yourself making tutu chair covers.
So, this post is my reality check. I will not give in to the Green Eyed Pinterest Monster.
After all, my almost-four-year-old doesn’t even know it exists yet.
And she’s certainly not expecting a tutu-festooned photo booth.
She just wants a party. With all her friends. And a purple cake featuring Batman marrying Cinderella (yes, really).
And honestly? I’ll be lucky if, as an adult, she remembers she had a party at all.
So mama needs to chill the heck out. And use all that money she would otherwise be spending on ridiculous party accouterments on a nice bottle of wine (or three).
She will certainly need it after hosting said birthday party – even if it isn’t at her house.
Can I get an amen? I know I can.