Selfishly, I love the birthday party circuit. It is the reason that I finally have like-minded friends again 10 years post college. Our kids get to play with other kids their age with whom they are familiar, in a structure someone else has organized and is responsible for, all while the adults gab and nosh on leftover pizza and cupcakes. What could be better? Seeing the same adult group weekend after weekend, and often multiple times during one weekend offers a chance to form and develop relationships of the kind I have sorely missed. Married couples with kids the same age all trying to climb the corporate ladder in their respective fields.
Except, yes, yes. SPD/AS/and ODD...I'd almost forgotten. My vision of hanging out with friends and allowing my inner social butterfly to emerge has more than once been shattered by attending a nightmare of a birthday party. Planned and perfect in every way, birthday parties often just aren't compatible for a child with Austin's combination of disorders. There have been multiple occasions where I have vowed to the heavens that I would never return to another party until Austin was a teenager, but by the next weekend the wounds have healed and my overwhelming need to return to the circuit persuades me to try again.
Along the way I have come up with the following set of guidelines, helpful for any parent, particularly those with multiple children.
1. Arrive late, and leave early.
Most birthday parties subscribe to a similar formula in which the kids free play for the first 30-45 minutes or so before any actual party activities begin. Getting to the party early or on time allows plenty of time for sensory input eventually leading to sensory overload, and subsequently uncontrollable behavior. Arriving in the middle of the pre-play not only affords less time to build up to a meltdown, but also allows you to seek out the parents already there for a lay of the land, "That way to the restrooms, gifts go there," etc. Plus, forecasting from this shorter time frame also proves valuable. Bribing your kid to be good from the outset is a lot easier when pizza is a mere 10 minutes away.
2. Keep the parent-child ratio 1:1.
This cannot be underestimated. It's not always possible, especially if your spouse shares the same crowd anxiety as your child, but definitely helps. At times I have even dragged my poor, unsuspecting mother with me to assist. In true sportsman style, you agree at the outset, "You cover your man, I'll cover mine, see ya at the end of the game."
The other alternative to ensure adherence to this rule is to leave one child at home. Your sanity during the party is worth the payoff of ice cream or a new robot or whatever else you'll have to offer up to the one left behind.
3. Dress your kids in the same color.
The brighter the better. One of the benefits of being on the circuit during spring and summer, there is always a plethora of neon and pastels to go around- none of the earthy colors of fall blending your children into the surrounding foliage. This may not necessarily be the most fashion forward choice, but you can be almost guaranteed that there won't be another set of kids dressed identically to yours. Day Glo is your friend.
4. Accept the assistance of others
How often have I wanted to hug the neck of a friend who, upon reading the desperation in my eyes, said to me, "I'll take CHILD A with me and my child so you can look after CHILD B." While this doesn't exonerate you from having responsibility over the child you actually gave birth to, no matter how tempting, it is such a relief to know that when the going gets tough you're not alone. I only hope to one day not be the parent so wild eyed that I can actually reciprocate.
5. Wear sneakers.
When all of the above measures fail to happen, or simply fail, this is your fail safe. At some point during every party/event/outing, I have had to break into a sudden sprint to regain possession of my child(ren.) I can read it in their eyes now, at least; that fleeting look over their shoulders, their measured steps quickening into a steady speed walk and then a trot, daring me to dart after them. I know that it would pain Stacy and Clinton to read this, but you have to ask yourself how cute you are really, sweating and breathing heavily, lugging a writhing toddler through the masses. Would it really matter at that point if I was wearing pointy-toe flats? In this case function trumps form.
6. Remember that you know your child better than anyone else, and you don't owe anyone else an explanation.
Even if you hear, "But we haven't had cake yet!" or "Let me run to get you a gift bag," know when to call it quits. Trust your instincts, respect your child's tolerance threshold, and leave when you know things are getting hairy. If it's nap time, go. If they are sensory overloaded, go. Your child and the birthday child will remember one another being there, they won't remember whether or not they stayed for cake. Too often I have kicked myself mid-meltdown as I lugged my boneless child bodily through a parking lot, tears in both of our eyes. Meltdowns never take me by surprise. Austin has learned to self-regulate enough to warn me now. "I'm tired," or "I'm ready to go." I just have to listen and respect him and not push it when I KNOW he can't handle more. He's telling me as much, even though he may not be in the throes of a meltdown yet.
7. Learn to relax a little.
At the end of the day, everybody's kid is running around and playing and shouting like a lunatic, a least some of the time. Learn to shrug it off. They're only kids once. They have a lifetime to fall short of someone else's expectations, so why not cut them some slack and allow them to just be who they are?
