My LO hits the grand old age of two this week.
Where in God’s green Earth did those two years disappear to? Since ‘squeezing’ out my purple, screaming, slimy baby, two years ago, my partner and I have been through the most incredible, depressing, emotional, euphoric years of our lives: I wouldn’t change them for the world.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve attended some VERY extravagant 2nd birthdays, organised by mummies I’m now very close to. They’re top notch mumas.
When I say extravagant parties, other fitting adjectives would be ostentatious or darn right mental. I’ve seen Darthvaders posing for pics with screaming toddlers; bemused ponies being lead in to garden parties and baby photo booths. For 2 year olds! I mean, really, who was that extravagant show for? The mum, of course.
The question I’m now pondering is: am I a prepared to remortgage in order to put on such a show, a show to celebrate the birthday for a tiny person who can’t even say their own name yet?
The answer is no. But if I had the money, I’d probably hire the Moscow State Circus and invite half of my town.
What is very important, I’ve realised lately, is to never judge a mother / parent for whatever they do: it’s their call.
For this special, 2nd birthday, we’ll be sticking to a Victoria sponge with sprinkles and some balloons. Regardless of what little my LO receives, he has all the love in the world, right at his fingertips.