Welcome to Mother’s Gonna Work it Out – a newsletter not just for mothers with children, but for everyone who cares for anyone. All previous posts are here.
Dexter turned three the other week and we threw a party. Not a party strictly for his birthday, but one we’ve been wanting to do for ages – a family-friendly afternoon dance for friends and family. Dexter’s birthday was the push we needed to give it a go.
I’ll be honest – I’m a bit scared of children’s parties. Hosting your own party is hard enough work. Throw a party to celebrate your child’s life, and the stakes get much higher. We’ve been to some spectacular affairs – our favourite party yet was hosted by my indomitable friend Helen, who hired a pony dressed up as a unicorn to give the kids a ride around the garden.
Helen is a consummate host, and we all had a wonderful time, but the pressure of having the Best Party Ever doesn’t always sit well.
I’ve seen a mother fight back tears at her son’s Very Hungry Caterpillar-themed party, when an actor dressed up as a caterpillar was reading the story to a clutch of toddlers in a church hall while a voluble parent suggested that the kids were getting bored.
Then there was the party hosted by the mother who let the kids run rampant through the house, painting the walls with cake, while she pretended she was OK with it.
There are also the parties that you’re not invited to. When parents we know and like didn’t invite us to their child’s party, I felt very deflated. I asked Mirrelle, one of my most pragmatic friends, and a mother of two, for help with this one.
‘These kids are an extension of us and anything that doesn’t go how we think it should means we project our own insecurities onto them. But does Dex care? Nope,’ she messaged me back.
As always, she was right. The sinking feeling in my stomach belonged only to me. It was me back at school being aired by the cool girls – it had nothing to do with Dexter, who continues to happily make friends and find his feet in the local party circuit.
On the morning of our party, I blew up 50 balloons and filled a bag with snacks, toy cars and glow sticks, and another with records. Lucy and Fringe came to help us set up, and stayed right until the end, when the children had cleared out and it was just the adults and our pints and Fringe playing us some of his finest records.
My other favourite moment of the afternoon was when Dexter’s dad got on the mic to encourage everyone to do their best robot dance to Kraftwerk. It felt like a celebration for everyone in a way that was true to ourselves, and made everyone very happy, which was exactly what we wanted.
PS: I have this song on repeat – apposite for these turbulent times, and this book is incredible. It’s changed the way I listen to music.