The scariest thing about a kids’ party? The other parents
The only thing more terrifying than wrangling sugar-charged toddlers is making small-talk with their parents, essentially a bunch of strangers muttering: “Gee, you’ve been lucky with the weather today.”
Parties, I’ve seen a few.
One of the more fabulous byproducts of my years in journalism has been incredible access to many a soiree most can only dream about.
Blow-your-mind locations, secret destinations, outrageous budgets, decadent fare and French champagne for days, everything from intimate dinners with supermodels, rubbing shoulders with Hollywood royalty and actual Royalty, whooping it up with sporting legends, society dames, millionaires, billionaires, rock stars, fabulous nobodies, movers and shakers and just about all in between.
Having been thoroughly spoilt rotten on the function front and somewhat known to throw a fairly decent bash myself (impromptu or planned), you’d think getting it together for my daughter’s third birthday party this weekend would be a snap.
My little party-nista has a fairly simple brief. “Pink cake with candles and a princess, please Mummy!”
Alrighty then. Having already managed to pull off a Peppa Pig cake and a two-tier success before (thank you YouTube), a pink birthday cake is the least of my worries. So I thought.
Tap in the words “pink”, “party” and “cake” on Pinterest and feel the wave of Bad Mummy anxiety hit. Doesn’t anyone just buy a pack of party hats, whistles, make a batch of fairy bread, chocolate crackles and wrap a pass-the-parcel anymore? Apparently not.
What do these Pinterest mummy freaks do with their lives? Seriously, who has the time (or budget) for this?
And then there’s the guest list.
The last two birthday parties for my daughter have been attended by family and our friends, all enthusiastic party people. Think more champagne, less cordial. More pinot, less party pie.
But this year, it’s time to invite “her” friends. The party posse from childcare.
What’s the party protocol? Invite her entire class? Do three-year-olds even know (or care) if they’re not on the “list”?
The only thing more terrifying than wrangling a bunch of sugar-charged toddlers is making small-talk with their parents, essentially a bunch of strangers crashing the princess party.
All standing around muttering: “Gee, you’ve been lucky/unlucky with the weather today.” Let’s face it, they probably don’t want to be there either.
As someone who steered well clear of any suggested “mother’s groups” (just not my thing), I am trying to get my head around this kid/parent/friend business. I am hoping to be pleasantly surprised.
Will there be judgments made if the party fare is all about fairy bread and not so much fruit? Am I expected to cater specifically for the grown-ups too with sophisticated snacks or can they simply suck it up with a cocktail frank?
Will the parent posse think I am a lush for offering bubbles at 11am or shall sparkling mineral water suffice? (I figure the small talk will be a tad less tedious with some bubbly encouragement.)
And what about the outfit? Little Miss Almost 3 is sorted so the only thing left to ponder is can the voluminous Cinderella costume made for a Cointreau Ball circa 1998 have its second outing on a Saturday morning in a suburban park playground? Too much? The brief was princess, no?
Move over, Pinterest freak mums.
Originally published as The scariest thing about a kids’ party? The other parents