Toddler Party Insanity

(Note: To all of you moms out there who can pull off toddler parties with style and panache and not end up on tranquilizer pills, I salute you. I am not worthy to ride in your mini-van. This post is for those of us who are still hoping to take a shower today, despite the fact that it's almost time for dinner.) 

(Note #2: This post was written last week, which means that the birthday has come and gone, but there are still cupcakes left if you want one.)

So, I'm a mom to a toddler who's turning the big 3 next weekend. He's aware of this fact because we've been telling him about it for a few weeks, trying to get him excited. I mean, it's a big deal. Three years of Sam, three years of being alive, three years of wearing diapers. (Seriously. That has to add up to like 908,000 diapers). It's been a good run of babyhood and toddlerhood. And I'm ready to celebrate. Maybe even party like it's 1999. Whatever that means.

I'm planning on taking cupcakes to his school next week for his little classmates to get hopped up on sugar and sing "Happy Birthday" in high-pitched voices while all kinds of pandemonium breaks out as the excitement of having something other than goldfish for snack takes hold. (If Sam's preschool teachers are reading this, I'd like to apologize in advance.)

I've ordered a Matchbox "Cliffhanger" Firestation from Target that Sam has specifically, and repeatedly, requested. Requests for specific toys is a new thing and it has me a teensy bit concerned that commercialism is about to become a thing. I'm trying hard to mute the commercials during The Backyardigans but the singing, dancing, stuffed animal houseshoes still look pretty awesome even without sound. What?

OK, so here's the deal about the party. It's not going to be a big deal. I mean, he's 3 for crying out loud. He doesn't know about all the insanity on Pinterest and how moms are crafting life-size images of their children with marshmallow cream and fondant. He also doesn't know that toddler moms everywhere are instagramming the hipster parties they've planned for their children in hopes that somebody in the reality television industry might possibly notice their creative genius and maybe even pick them up for a TLC show next fall called "Insane Toddler Parties" where children receive gold-plated Rolls Royce Big Wheels and eat caviar-laden cupcakes. I kid.

Probably somewhere in my heart of hearts, there's a little part of me that wishes I had the creative "skillz" of those Pinteresting moms who make cakes from scratch and craft intricate party decorations with moveable parts to hang from the ceiling.

I am not that mom. We'll be having family over and I'll make cupcakes and there'll be some presents to open. But, there won't be a theme. And there won't be a pinata full of candy. And, sadly, there won't be a thirty foot tall bounce house shaped like Lightning McQueen. So, in lieu of actually having an awesome toddler party, I thought I'd just post a few pictures of parties that other toddlers' moms hosted for you to enjoy. Here goes:

Numero Uno: Cowboy Party

I think little Enzo had a cowboy themed party. But, maybe it was just a cow theme, because I'm noticing a lot of cow print stuff here. Either way, I bet Enzo will never forget this party. At least not until next week.

Numero Dos: Mad Scientist Party

20 bucks says this kid grows up to be a nerd. Or maybe cure cancer. (That's the kind of far-reaching power these toddler parties can have).

Numero Tres: Sesame Street Party

Somebody baked some serious quantities of cake for this party. 

Numero Quatro: Fireman Party

This is what I would have done were I a better mother, I mean, if I had a nanny, a personal assistant, and a masseuse on call.

I think it's possible I may be harboring some residual guilt over not being the kind of mom who is awesome at kid parties, and maybe feeling a teensy bit jealous of moms who actually do this kind of stuff. I'll be adding this to my list of things to get therapy for. Not really. I just might need to eat one more peanut butter ball to make me feel better about my creative deficiencies. (Today's peanut butter ball count: three).

Regardless of all that...

Happiest of birthdays to our Sam.
You are loved more than you will ever know, buddy.