Happy Unbirthday

Okay. I have to get something off ma chest. Appropos of nothing, I just have to confess that I am not a fan of the throwing of the child birthday party. Woooooshhhooooo. I know, right? You'd have liked the courtesy of being told to sit down first before I dropped that emotional bombshell on you! GAH! This is almost on par with the Dick Whitman/Donald Draper revelation. Believe me, it hurts me more than it hurts you. So, who cares? Is that really what you're thinking? Your kids' birthdays aren't even in this vicinity of the year, Kendra. Why you trippin', gurl?

It's just that...there's this trend? In the blogosphere? Where I live A LOT, and it's a complete festival of birthday DIY awesomeosity, and I just cannot abide it. I feel so inadequate! My children have never had a birthday that their mother has thrown for them. Ohhohoho, those pictures you've seen in their fancy hanboks with the fruit sculptures? Those are all show and tell for my in-laws. There have been no handmade banners, no thematic Elmo goodie bags cum pin-the-tail-on-Elmo games, no matchy candy buffets (sourced locally, natch). I have never hit up Paper Source to craft a custom invitation nor ordered adorbs ones from tinyprints. I've had the opportunity 4 times and I've tossed up the white flag every time.

I have thought lonnnng and hard about this. And truth be told, it has nothing to do with laziness or the wherewithall to host a party or lack of creativity. It's not a campaign against milestone celebrations or a fear that my child will be the one all "it's my party and I'll cry if I want to."

It all comes down to my issue. I'm not even sure I can explain it, but I'm a writer, so let me just write to see what I'm thinking.

I think I'm anti-birthday-throwing for my kids because...because I just want to be selfish with them for the years in which I can be, n'ah mean? I sometimes feel like they grow whole inches while I am rocking them and grow two feet in the span of a night's sleep. It's not fair. I can't bear it! So when their birthdays come and they're a whole year older than they were the day before? I just want to relish in their company and not have to tuck away my inner anguish so that we can get on with the lighting of the candles, the singing in an off-key, the cutting of the cake. I know they are just a couple of years away from hog-tying me into some Fancy Nancy/Transformers shenanigans complete with those uberirritating party favors that kids blow on until the cardboard mouthpiece is all mushy. And then it's all downhill from there.

And that, ladies in gents, is why you've never been invited to a party at my house celebrating my children. Do you feel better now? I know I do. End: SuperEmo Mama Blather.

Edit: I should add that I've always used the $crilla that I would have spent on a birthday to purchase a museum membership or register my kids for a class that we can attend together. Gift that keeps on giving and all of that.

P.S. Am I the only one who feels this way? Kinda?