Themumsofflaw: The Highly Complex Business Of Kids Birthday Parties

The writer, Suruchi is a non practicing lawyer with a  Degree in Masters of Law and is also a visiting faculty in the Mumbai University. Mom of two boys, a self confessed shopaholic, an avid reader, and a blogger who loves penning down her zillion thoughts on life, parenting and everyday happenings. 

The one thing that absolutely nobody warns you about when you have a baby are the birthdays. Obviously your baby will turn a year older every year, but that small thing will have friends and those friends will have birthdays too, and then the siblings and because you know one of the sibling you’ll be invited for the other siblings birthday too. It is never ending, its big, its bad, it’s contagious and it’s dangerous, this birthday bash epidemic.

I realised how big the birthday mania is when on all my shopping trips I started buying clothes for birthday parties. And shoes, and bags. Before you judge me let me explain, firstly any birthday party means there are tiny kids by the dozens, so clothes have to be stain, puke, spit, and chocolate cake friendly. Also it is Murphy’s law (or maybe yours truly’s luck) that whenever you are wearing a flared dress or skirt the party will be in the windy outdoors and whenever you wear a nice snug dress the hostess’ septuagenarian- octogenarian family members will be present at the party to give you, ‘what is she wearing’ looks, and if for the sake of playing it safe on the days that you step out in jeans and a top, every other mother will be in a beautiful dress making you feel like a fashion outcast. Hence, outfit selection requires superior levels of concentration.

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Secondly, when you take a 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 year old for a party, he will behave like an ‘Aam Aadmi Party’ activist at a rally. He will scream, he will shout, he will demand everything that is available and unavailable and will surely do a rasta roko aandolan somewhere strategic at the party. I know one three year old who held the cake hostage, (I am neither confirming nor denying that it was my son, and I may or may not have hid behind the table pretending that that’s not my child). Coming back to the wardrobe, ergo comfortable shoes. Either to run around your child, or to run away from the party once the tiny sugar monster starts acting up.

Thirdly, a bag, preferably a cross body, so that your arms are free, and obviously because they’re currently in vogue too. Having both your hands free at a birthday party is extremely important, you need them to physically tame the beast (your child) and they also double up as shields to protect your face/eyes from all unidentified flying objects, which are flung around by unbelievably excited kids. Really whoever feels I’m exaggerating, you got to see what happens to a child after consuming juice, cake, chocolate, and chips. He’s no longer a small body, he is the devil incarnate, who will jump, shout, scream, push and pull his way to the return gifts/party favours which they’ll always want at the beginning of the party. Why? Because waiting is an alien concept. (I’m talking about boys here from personal experience, but some of my friends who have girls say that this transformation from baby to monster is not gender based).

Since there will be more than one party you will attend, you have to keep a mental record of what you wore where, to avoid the cardinal disaster- repeating the same outfit in the same group. If the party you are going for is the “no maids pleaseâ€_x009d_ variety, you’re doomed. Running around one or two kids in a party with no help and pretending to be patient and loving when all you want to do is smack the daylights out of your child, and all this while looking after your clothes, bags, shoes, hair, makeup, is bound to give you a splitting headache. Since alcohol is not served at most kiddie bashes, Crocin, is your saviour. I think these “no maidsâ€_x009d_ parties are invented by the super hands on moms to torture “help dependantâ€_x009d_ moms like me. Or they simply want to watch me struggle with my kids.

On occasions that you are throwing a party for your child it is double the fun. Not only do you have to look after all the organising, you also have to make sure you, your child, your maid and your husband are presentable too. I have warned the hubby that if he attends one more of our son’s birthdays in a black shirt I will either not invite him for future parties or will write a long detailed article on his dressing sense! It’s almost like he’s protesting about his hard earned money being spent by wearing black, (or maybe he’s just upset because he didn’t get the cake! Men!)

We mothers stick together in this, so for our kids birthdays we invite fellow mothers to share our pain, oops joy, I meant joy, and for their kid’s birthday we go for moral support. And why do we plan such elaborate parties you ask…to wear our new clothes, silly! We are heavily reliant on our tiny tots for outings, so when you know it’s inevitable, may as well enjoy it. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, and when life gives you babies, you go shopping, play dress up and sing “Happy Birthday!”

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