That Time I Threw My One-Year-Old a Wedding—I Mean, Birthday Party!

Disclaimer: This is NOT a boast post in which I brag about my daughter’s ridiculously cute under-the-sea birthday party that I spent MONTHS planning and for which I finally joined scary, scary Pinterest.

Okay, maybe it is a little bit. JK, JK. It’s supposed to be a retelling of my first-hand experience partaking in the untamable cultural PHENOMENON that is one-year-old birthday celebrations.

I would join in with the other moms at the park or in music class. “Oh, YES. One-year-old birthday parties are just SO out of hand these days. It’s simply ridiculous.” I wasn’t being disingenuous. It’s true! They are ludicrous! Did that stop me from nose-diving into the delicious frenzy of planning a massive event that rivaled my wedding in both logistics and fanfare? Of course not!

We can definitely say that I went MOMentarily nuts. I spent a small fortune, invited 90 of Emerson’s “closest friends” and ordered a custom-made mermaid-like gown, I mean tutu, for the bride, I mean birthday girl. I also completed four—YES, FOUR—homemade crafts, which was positively groundbreaking for yours truly. There was cake. There were favors. There was a candy bar. Music and mingling and catered food. I completely threw my baby a wedding. It was amazing and ridiculous.

But, in all honesty, sometimes, I love being ridiculous. It’s why I love wearing animal print and putting literally THE MOST GARGANTUAN bows on my daughter’s head that I can possibly find. What is life about if not expression and a little ridiculousness?

Even more, if we don’t pause to celebrate the moments that matter most to us, who will?

The one-year-old birthday bonanzas are NOT for everyone. They might not even be for me in the future. I fully understand the arguments. “Why put yourself through that?” “They won’t even remember it!” “What a waste of money.” “PLEASE, parents only do that for themselves and their friends.”

But for this year, for us, it felt right. Emerson changed our lives so dramatically for the better when she bounded into the world, and we wanted to celebrate her massive smile and curious little being. Her humongous blue eyes seem to enchant people everywhere we go, and if strangers can go wild over her, why can’t I?! (It’s also the bows. People LOVE bows.)

All moms should be a little too crazy about their kids, in my opinion. I am obsessed with Emerson. I wanted to creatively display pictures that I felt showcased her beauty and fierce personality. I wanted to express my love by gluing a million tiny circles of paper to lollipop sticks I purchased on Amazon for the homemade cupcake toppers. I want her to look back and say, “Wow, my mom really tried hard to make that hideously frightening and extremely blue mermaid cake look actually edible. She must REALLY love me a lot.”

(However, I will NEVER bake 75 cupcakes by myself again. Even a mother’s love should have boundaries, and there are so many respectable bakeries.)

This party also hailed the year Doug and I became parents, and we wanted to celebrate SURVIVING that first year, with everyone who walked hand-in-hand with us through the transition period. I wanted to bless the people who brought us dinner when she was born, gave us hand-me-downs, called and texted and prayed, brought us dinner again when Emerson stopped breathing and landed in CHOC for three nights when she was only seven weeks old. I wanted to honor the women who told me I could do this stay-at-home mom thing, even though some days my heart might ache from the loneliness, and to hang in there because the beauty and privilege so far outweigh the struggle. The girlfriends who encouraged me to keep nursing when I so badly wanted to quit. The sweet ladies who reminded me that the post-partum darkness does not last forever, even though it can feel like a life sentence. I wanted to celebrate Emerson, but I also wanted to feed, love and spoil the souls who have carried us through.

I feel similarly about my wedding in 2007. Beautiful, glorious, big. We were married at a country club with 315 guests and a six-tiered cake. Red roses upon red roses, Godiva chocolates in tiny boxes, Swarovski crystal chandeliers, filet mignon and sea bass, a cappuccino bar and a DJ who worked with celebs.

While dramatic and incredibly fun, those things didn’t hold the day’s meaning. Little details, insignificant even. Lovely, yes. Necessary? Not even. They were merely an expression of our marriage and my vision of the best party EVER. I wanted to thank the wonderful people who had supported me and Doug in our journey, offer them some delicious food and a fabulous time in a heavenly setting. The day was, I suppose, extravagant, but only because my heart can be a little extravagant. Basically, let’s become friends if you love a good party.

Sometimes celebrating life looks like an under-the-sea birthday gala, and sometimes it looks like more red roses than you could possibly count. Other times, it might look like pizza at home with a candle in it, or a picnic, or a glance, or a church service. In any case, big moments deserve to be marked.

 

I’m so glad I threw my daughter a ridiculous one-year-old birthday party because it felt perfect.

I’m even gladder that we have 20+ years to save for her wedding.