I love birthday parties for little kids. It is one of my secret shames. I know that I should be bored or at least act put out that we have "yet another" party to attend. I just think they are so much fun. With the exception of Chuck E Disease parties (or as we refer to him: Charles Edward Queso) I think kiddo parties are the best. And I love girl parties - they all get hopped up on sugar and squeal and run about like squirrels on meth. It is fantastic.
I happen to be on the neurotic planning side - witness my child's party being picked up in a national design blog or my need to recruit six parents to staff my eldest's summer party. That is my own person demon to wrestle with ... birthdays bring out my Martha. But I believe that any reason is a good reason to have a party.
I hope I never turn in to one of those people that shuns their own birthday. Rather than moping about it being ONE YEAR OLDER I choose to see it as WOHOO! STILL ALIVE AND KICKING!
I really enjoy observing my children socializing. Miss Crab really has come a long way. She goes off and does her own thing, but every time a child needed a ride partner at today's indoor fun park, someone was calling her name and holding out their hand. So sweet. They love her.
She won the jackpot in tickets at the arcade and chose - of her own accord - to buy a tiara for the birthday girl with her winnings. She used what was left over to buy a paper fan for herself and her sister. I wanted to scoop her up and cry, but I refrained from having a public meltdown.
I overachieved with my offspring. Just sayin.