Last weekend we hosted a birthday party at our home to celebrate my kids turning four years old. We had an “Under the Sea” theme–my first effort at having a themed party of any sort–and made loose reference to the theme throughout with octopus-covered party invitations, blue and green party decorations, and water-focused activities (a slip and slide and wading pool kept the kids happy for hours). The crowning glory? The cake, of course. Because what’s a birthday party without cake? This year I made cupcakes actually, and decorated them to look like fish. They were a hit! Not surprisingly, the kids were especially delighted to pick out their favorite colors to feast on.
Putting this whole thing together gave me pause to think about how we try so hard to create magic for our children. We concoct elaborate fairy tales about tooth fairies and Easter bunnies and Santa Claus and his reindeer; we throw festive parties with princess and pirate and cowboy and fairy tale themes to make their imaginary worlds come to life; even the pains we take to make the minutiae of their days tantalizing and exciting–that’s not broccoli, those are trees from the elf forests of Never Never Land!–reflect our to desire to highlight the extraordinary in the mundane.
I find myself wondering if our kids really need all the hooplah.
I’m all for celebrating. And I think there is value in seeking out beauty and wonder in the world around us. Frankly, I think it’s more fun to eat elf forests than plain old broccoli, and I’m not suggesting there’s anything wrong with trying to bring out the awe inspiring. But I do hesitate a bit when I see parents getting stressed out about how to make the world exciting for their kids when, if they only took the time to look out the back door, they might notice their kids getting excited about digging in the dirt, watering the garden, or looking for bugs. I pride myself somewhat on not getting caught up in our cultural pressure to constantly do things with my kids, but even I am taken aback sometimes when I look back and realize that some of our best days are the ones we spend at home playing in the yard, painting or doing art projects in the kitchen, going on walks, or even doing our own thing–I get some work done around the house while the kids play with their toys and make up stories. Nothing beats a child’s imagination when it comes to discovering the magic in the world.
In previous years I have struggled somewhat with what to do for my kid’s birthday cakes. Last year I really wanted them each to feel special, so I made them each an individual cake. I am not an enterprising baker, but I found some easy how-tos and did my best to create cakes that each of my kids would find special. In the end, they were all delighted with their cakes, and I was pleased to see them happy. But the truth is I was up until 2 or 3 in the morning the night before the party, and by the time cake time came at the party, a couple of the cakes had significantly melted in the heat of the sun, despite my efforts to keep them protected and cool. The kids weren’t phased by the melting, but I was bummed–I’d put a lot of work into those! But the day wasn’t supposed to be about me or my efforts, it was about my kids. And this year I applied my new lesson in picking out a simple recipe I could do stress-free and without complication. The kids were equally enamored with this year’s cupcakes as they were with last year’s cakes. It may be a small lesson, but it spoke to me.
My kids aren’t looking for me to make magic. God does that on a daily basis all around us. Perhaps all my kids need is for me to be a discoverer right alongside them, looking for the wonder in the world and celebrating that which we find.
Love your writing! Can’t wait for the book.