Best Friend Birthdays

PDG has a good friend named Lil O. In fact, he refers to him as "my very best friend," sometimes with an additional "very." It's super cute and they've been friends ever since Lil O's mom and I were pregnant at the same time and decided they would be. I think that's pretty much the main ingredient to preschool age friendships. That or attending the same daycare.

But even when we mention daycare friends, it's clear that Lil O beats out the rest by a long shot. As such, PDG was pretty excited about Lil O's birthday party. Unlike our family which still attempts to convince the kids that parties consist of no more than cupcakes and one or two families coming over to play, Lil O's family goes all out for birthdays. There have been bouncy houses and catered events so far, and this year was another rager at the soft playroom.

If you don't know what a soft playroom is, imagine a racquetball court covered in gymnastics mats with some big soft blocks to climb on, tunnels to crawl through, a ball pit, some bigger balls to throw at each other, and goofy mirrors for the one-year-old crew.

PDG had a blast. MDG had a blast. Every child five and under had a blast, and there was surprisingly little crying considering all the ball-throwing, self-launching, and general hyperactivity involved. Then there was pizza and cake - practically two food groups for toddlers - and a craft that led to MDG covering himself and my lap with glitter glue. It was the precise recipe for a family nap.

The only downside is I'm a little worried that PDG is going to want something that elaborate for his own fourth birthday in March, but with any luck we can hold off another year. Is that bad of me to say? Do I have to do a party too in order to be a decent mom? I hope not. Goodie bags and helium balloons aren't my expertise... I'm just going to convince myself that we can all do different things and still end up with kids who love us for being like we are. And my introvert side can breathe a sigh of relief at not planning an event where I have to invite my kids' friends instead of my own. I get enough of a panic attack planning our annual Christmas brunch.