As of the stroke of midnight, we are two months away from
Lily’s 4th birthday. She is chomping at the bit, I am excited about
planning and Doug is looking forward to a cute little party while praying we
don’t get too carried away. I come from a family of birthday people, where we
make a big deal every year and sit around and comment on each gift as we open
them all one by one. Birthdays are a big deal whether you are eight or 88, but
there is a special kind of excitement in those single digit years.
For the past three birthdays, I have had the luxury of
controlling Lily’s birthdays.
The first year, of course, she had no opinion.
She was just pleasantly surprised when she had new toys wrapped up in paper and
completely ecstatic when we plopped a giant hunk of cake in front of her face.
The second year she had preferences, but at almost two her concept of time was
not unlike that of an armadillo. I wanted to celebrate her love for Minnie Mouse and make it fun for me, too. She showed up for the party and, for the most
part, she liked it. Always a bit eccentric, she hated opening gifts, but was
totally on board for the cake.
The third
birthday brought a little more of her involvement, but I was still making the
big decisions. I knew I wanted a circus theme, so I spent lots of time playing
up the circus we attended and crafting a party around the thing she had been
trained to love. I spent the months leading up to these birthdays making
one-of-a-kind invitations and decorations, having more fun planning the parties
than an adult really deserves.
Four is different. Four is really different. I spent the
latter part of the summer up to my old tricks, working on convincing my very
strong-willed child that her favorite things just happened to match the things
I had pinned on my Pinterest board. Some may call it manipulation and I am really okay with that. I had a great idea for a train birthday
party after she fell in love with the trackless train ride at her end of school
party. I had grand dreams of train whistle favors tied with pretty ribbon, a
little bit tomboy with a touch of femininity, little sandwiches shaped like
trains and birthday pictures on an old caboose. I even spent time in the hot
Texas summer riding around with her on local trains and she loved them, but not
enough to trump her idea of a dream birthday party.
My daughter, you see, has fallen madly in love with
“Tangled”, the Disney movie telling the story of a very tough Rapunzel who
knocks people out with a frying pan and swings through the air using her hair.
What little girl wouldn’t love that? She wants a princess castle moonwalk, a
tower cake and lots of friends there to help her celebrate. She also wants to
release floating lanterns into the sky and, although I am reasonably sure my
explanation of drought conditions and the danger of setting the town on fire
are above her head, she seems to understand that the lantern release is not
part of the plan. I think it’s going to
be a great party and I guess it’s now time that I get on board with what Lily
wants; it is her birthday, after all. I mean, I did the hard part of actually
giving birth, but I have no 19-hour labor story to use for leverage. Easy
C-sections don’t count.
Letting go of party planning is not easy for a control freak
like me. Thinking about the control I will be relinquishing over the rest of
her childhood and adolescence is even more overwhelming. I love being a mom and
I love having things just so, but I have to remind myself that the object of
this whole raising kids thing is to have a mature child who can leave the nest
as a confident, independent adult. It’s a daunting task, but I will just keep
relinquishing a little control at a time and setting the boundaries where they
matter.
I can let her have a Tangled birthday party while drawing
the line at releasing lanterns containing actual fire into the skies of
drought-stricken Central Texas.
I can let her choose her clothing while teaching her it is
entirely inappropriate to wear pajamas and cleats to church or school. Note: I
do reserve the right to drop certain pieces of clothing off at Goodwill at 3 am
if the teaching becomes too challenging.
I can let her choose her favorite flavors of juice at the
store while teaching her that the artificially fruit-flavored drinks are a
waste of calories.
I look back at the best memories of my childhood, and many
of them involved my parents setting boundaries while allowing me to make
decisions and feel independent and strong. Quite honestly, it was a lot like
the invisible fence where the dog wears the special collar and won’t go past
the invisible boundary while not fully understanding why. Then one day I did
not need my special collar anymore. I knew the boundaries and I appreciated
them. Sure, I forgot my training a few times and nearly was hit by a car or
two, but the training was always there. I hope I can do the same for Lily.
And only after midnight can we jump from birthdays to
control issues to the numerous ways humans are like dogs. You’re welcome.
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