(2 Karats and a Kid) The Baby Sesame Street non-Halloween Costume Birthday Party Super Fiesta...

Mommy-ism #16:  One day, you may find yourself rueing the day that Sesame Street party favors were invented. 

I swore it wouldn't be me. 

Pizza.  Soda.  One cupcake and a candle.  That's how we were supposed to celebrate Roman's 1st birthday.

Don't get me wrong.  I love my child and I certainly feel that he is worth the celebration.  Yet, I recognized that since he doesn't distinguish one day over the next, orchestrating a large party to commemorate his 1st year of life would be more for me than for him.

I swore that I would never have an elaborate "Toy Story" or "Happy Feet" party where there would be Toy Story/Happy Feet balloons, forks, top hats, bubble makers, and harmonicas.

But that was before I began planning the party.  Our "no theme" party quickly turned into a Baby Sesame Street non-Halloween costume party super fiesta.  Sesame street plates, napkins, forks, and table clothes were a must.  Baby Sesame Street balloons were a dire necessity.  The five foot inflatable Elmo and super-sized Elmo birthday bib?  Add them to the cart. Oh, don't forget the Tiger Woods future-golfer outfit. I couldn't believe how quickly it all spiraled out of control.

My typically rational mind was replaced with the irritation fantasy of the birthday party that I think that I would have wanted as an infant.  It was insane.

It wasn't until I told my husband that I was on my way to purchase a disposable helium tank that I realized that I was out of control.  It's not that he told me that I couldn't...but his eyes simply said, "if you buy it, I will think you are nuts."

Hours later, the decorations were up, the menu was set, and the playroom was prepared.

But would anyone come?

Again, my mind knew that Roman wouldn't know if his birthday party was considered an epic failure.  I imagined him sitting on the window seal looking out onto the street, waiting for people to show up.   

Luckily, the party went on without a hitch.  He had plenty of friends there.  He ate his first cupcake. And eventually partied himself out and feel asleep in my mother's arms.

By the end of the day, when the last balloon was popped and the cupcakes were all given away, I wouldn't have changed a thing about his party.  The way I figure it, it's a parent's job to make their children feel extraordinary, and loved, and special in every way -- no matter how corny and ridiculously outlandish the methods may be.