Turning three isn’t what it used to be…

Right now, it is summer break for my three year old son – no preschool mornings, twice a week, to give my wife a break. If all goes well (i.e. if we manage to get him potty-trained by September), he will go back to school in the Fall.

When he started school last September, his social life really started to take off. His calendar began to look like that of a presidential candidate, with appearances somewhere else every morning. Preschool. Music classes. Playgroups. My wife morphed from a stay-at-home mom into chauffeur-around mom, busy with shuttling the offspring to carefully scheduled gatherings of the toddler set.

Hand in hand with this development comes the addition of new friends. Basically overnight, at least 9 more kids (his preschool buddies-to-be) turn into instant future birthday party guests. Birthday parties in the digital age are very different from the birthday parties I attended in the late 60s and early 70s. The invitation arrives via email as an “evite” with cute graphics and instant RSVP options. And this is only the beginning. Around the third birthday, the pressure starts to build. What to do? Spring $250 to rent the jumpy place (bring your own pizza, cake, napkins, cups and drinks)? A clown, a pony? How about Build-A-Bear, at $25 a guest, unless you want the bear to go naked? And the goodie bags! When did that start? Granted, I am ancient, but I do not remember a single birthday party I attended in any way other than I had fun. We would go to the friend's house, have cake and soda, play games where you could win small prizes and go home after two hours or so. That's it. No princess/pirates themes, no pressure. There is even a website that deals with out-of-control birthday parties - www.birthdayswithoutpressure.org.

While we managed to celebrate our son's birthday with pizza and cake at a park, he has attended three or four parties organized at jumpy places or gymnastics facilities, where the staff will even take notes during the unwrapping of the presents so that the birthday kid has an easier time with the now mandatory thank you notes. God forbid you forget to send out a thank you note…

Most of the time, I end up being the party escort to give my wife a break on Saturdays when these events are usually scheduled. So look for me there, trying to keep my son from tumbling off the balance beam, making small talk with other dads and secretly wishing I was home taking a nap.