I suffered years of guilt over birthday parties. Three years to be exact. J was born in Ottawa, and it was a lovely city with great public transportation. We had things to do every day and never waited more than five minutes at any given bus stop. We could hop on the bus and go anywhere, doing anything we wanted and meeting people from all over.
While it was a great way to socialize a child, there was a drawback. We never ran into the same people twice, so it was hard to make friends. It's not socially acceptable in a big city to ask for someone's number so you can have a play date after meeting them once. So we made do with different playmates every day.
Then along comes his birthday. On his first birthday, I invited some little people around our highrise so J could have some friends show up. These weren't the regular sort of friends that we played with often, just said hi to whenever we saw them and chatted for a bit. No one showed up. I remember his first birthday as a sad little affair, the three of us (J, mommy and daddy) eating pizza and cake while wearing party hats and blowing those honker things. Obviously J didn't care at one, but I felt horrible that I couldn't provide him with a party.
When he was two, again no one showed up. After another year, we still hadn't managed to make lasting friends in the capital city. Several invitations went out, people RSVP'd yes, and never came. J cried and waited for the party to show up, and eventually went to bed disappointed thinking no one liked him.
The third year was different, only in that J told me not to bother inviting anyone because he didn't want to wait for no one to come. That was the year I cried. I promised him we would go to his favourite indoor playground, his favourite restaurant, and I'd make his favourite cake. Then he stayed up late watchign his favourite movies and playing games. That year was all about him and he had a good time, but he didn't have a party because he had no one to invite.
The fourth year we had managed to make one little friend for Jimmy that was a repeat buddy. A little girl and her mom came to the party, and J thought it was the best thing ever. We didn't have people visit often, so that one friend made all the difference. As his mom though, I thought it was pretty sad. We could say we were keeping it small, we could say we didn't want people over, but the truth was that in four years, J only had one friend to invite to his party.
I felt so guilty that I wasn't helping my little boy become popular, but I had to remind myself it was the city. If we had stayed there I'm sure he would have collected a ton of friends at school, but we didn't want him to stay there. A big part of the reason we moved was to live in a family-friendly community. Ottawa, for all its beauty and bustle, was not.
The first birthday party J had here was at an indoor playground. It was expensive, but I justified that with the fact that it was his first real party, after four years. It was lots of fun and over fourteen people showed up. J was happy and didn't even think to compare it to his birthdays before. I had to though. I kept asking myself if J was having enough fun, if he was playing with everyone, and if he was happy.
This year, we are keeping the party at home to save money. J has invited eleven people to come, and most of them probably will. I have organized games, possible sledding, food, cake, and apple pie (J's request), and I'm sure it will be a grand time. I hope so anyway. I want every birthday he has from now on to be exactly what he wants and I want him to forget about his first four. He will likely remember them (that kid has the memory of an elephant), but hopefully I can make his birthdays so fun now that it doesn't matter.
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