Last weekend my daughter went to her first birthday party here in the Philippines. I had heard that it is assumed that the entire family will come when a kid is invited, so we all decided to make an afternoon of it. The party was being held at a new hotel that has an amazing swimming pool and water park, so we brought our suits and towels.
The invitation said 2 pm, so we showed up at 1:59.
Upon arriving, we saw a sign for the birthday party...that said it started at 3 pm.
"Must be a mistake", we thought.
Before I go further, let me say that I feel the need to describe this party in detail because I was so fascinated by it--but I don't mean offense. I am in a time of learning and trying to understand the "why" behind the things I don't understand.
So, we head upstairs to the party room. Now, I knew from the invitation that this was a Frozen-themed party. I expected decorations. But nothing prepared me for what I saw when we stepped into the room:
It looked like a wedding reception. And it was clearly not going to start until 3 pm. The only other people there were the staff setting up the room and another American-ish dad with his son. (Though his family was from the US, the man was raised in the Philippines.) We sat together and looked longingly out the windows at the pool area. This was obviously not going to be a swimming party.
But here's what the party did have: vendors handing out French fries, popcorn, tempura, squid balls, and bubble tea, game booths where you could win prizes, a huge table full of toys (where kids could claim prizes during large group games run by an MC dressed as Anna from Frozen), a buffet (which we didn't stay for as we had already been there for hours and our kids had school the next day), a cake made of cupcakes which were all adorned with Frozen characters made entirely of icing, a DJ, and candy sprinkled around the centerpieces at every table.
A couple other kids finally started straggling in around 3 pm, and then the birthday girl came in with her family. Her mother was easy to identify. Her dress was gorgeous (and very shiny), her hair and makeup were immaculate. The birthday girl, turning 9, was harder to find. She was dressed as Elsa (Filipinos dressed as Nordic characters are pretty cute, really) but she was wrapped around her yaya and wouldn't let go for the first hour and a half of the party.
A yaya is a nanny. The relationship between a yaya and the children she cares for can vary from household to household. Here, it was really interesting to watch the mother make her rounds to guests, make sure the microphones were working, and braid her daughter's hair, while her daughter remained attached, literally, to her yaya. The mother told us that her daughter was throwing a tantrum, but to me it looked like a 9-year-old who was overwhelmed by being the center of attention at this very elaborate shindig. But who knows. I actually told my husband that the mm had probably told the girl to make a speech or sing or something. Lo and behold, one of the "surprises" introduced by the MC was that the birthday girl was going to grace us with a song! Her first time singing in front of people!
No wonder she was trying to hide.
Now, I did talk to the mom at several points during the party. During one of those conversations she told me that next year she's planning a Hollywood-themed party. !! Aside from being ridiculously well-prepared, she struck me as someone who is generous and honestly loves to celebrate. She has four kids, so automatically she gets my respect. I think the birthday girl is her youngest. If I am very honest with myself, if I had the means (and a little less tact) I would probably want to throw a party like this one for my daughter if I thought even for a moment that it would make her feel loved and special. I mean, her name was up there in giant, Frozen letters! There were life-size Frozen figures up there! It could have been a dream come true.
I just wasn't convinced it was this little girl's dream come true.
But, who am I to judge? People had fun at the party, the loot bags and game prizes we came home with were beyond anything I've ever seen (seriously, it was like a second Christmas) and my kids had an amazing time.
Now, I wonder what my daughter is expecting for her party in a few months. You know how it goes at this age. Everything is about comparison and fitting in. and my daughter has really, really been struggling to fit in since we moved here. If I thought throwing this kind of party would help her gain friends and confidence, I think I would do it.
The problem is, I'm being shortsighted. If I did throw that kind of party, I'd be letting fear win over integrity. I'm so afraid my daughter will be teased and unpopular and go down the road of low self-esteem...or worse. But a party won't solve that problem. Young as she is, I need to teach her to be content, to love herself, to be kind, to be strong, to be thankful, and to share her wealth. Will she understand at age 9 that there are better places to distribute money than to spend it on a lavish, fancy party that would make her feel like a princess? It's one of those "she'll understand someday" or "she'll thank you for it later" scenarios.
But I want her to feel special now. (Hmmm...I seem to be channeling Veruca Salt, for some reason. The original Veruca, I mean.)
I won't throw a party that looks like a wedding reception. But I'm open to ideas for a party that celebrates who she is, what she enjoys, and also has the added benefit of giving other kids a really good time to remember her by.
Oh, I forgot one thing. The mom told me she put 2 pm on the invitations because Filipinos always show up so late to everything. I'll know for next time. :)
I began this blog as a way to redefine, or perhaps rediscover, the beauty of ME after losing all my hair to alopecia universalis over 5 years ago. Join me in the movement to see ourselves and our world through a lens not offered by our culture.
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Birthday Blues
Yesterday was my husband's birthday. Not wanting to take him at his word that he didn't want to do anything special, I decided to put together a really special evening for him.
And then I couldn't even get both candles to light. I spent the evening in tears.
Let me fill in the middle of the story for you. I spent the whole day getting ready. I went all over town looking for the gift I had planned on giving him, but it was nowhere to be found. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating--I consider my two go-to stores "all over town".) I carefully studied the recipe for his favorite Egyptian dish and got all the ingredients--including a bag of wheat flour that really has no place in my gluten-free kitchen. For anyone who knows me, this is a huge sacrifice. I got a balloon, I got out my blonde wig and planned nice, dressy outfits for myself and the kids, I got his favorite kind of cake...and these candles.
I didn't time the cooking very well, failing to factor in the kids--pick ups taking longer than they should have, cries for attention, the whole bit. My attempt at Egyptian cooking was a colossal fail. I forgot which bag the cake was in and it smooshed to one side of the box. I didn't have time for any of us to get dressed up before he got home, I didn't have his Arabic music playing like I had planned, and I couldn't get both kids to make him a card. Besides that, I had a wicked headache and the kids were driving me absolutely crazy with their screaming. Happy screaming, but screaming nonetheless.
And then one of the candles wouldn't light.
And just like that, this selfless act of creating the perfect birthday where my husband would feel loved became all about me.
Self-awareness can really be annoying sometimes.
I am increasingly aware that, despite years of therapy for this issue, I still make everything about me. I still need affirmation like most people need water. I can only go three days without it. I know I set myself up to fail with this birthday dinner just so I could have a little "poor me, I tried so hard but nothing ever works for me" pity party and get loving attention and affirmation from my husband about everything that does work for me--or, more to the point, about me. I took on an incredibly difficult culinary challenge when I don't handle simple ones well; I actually thought my kids--my kids--could sit and make cards and dress themselves up; and I waited until the day of his birthday to shop for the gift. Somewhere deep, I think I knew I wouldn't pull it off.
I'm pretty frustrated by the fact that I can't seem to accept who I am, inside or out. I see myself through the eyes of others, good or bad. And most of that is all in my head.
Redefining my own beauty must involve setting realistic expectations for myself, even it means giving up all the attention I get when I fail. It must involve offering what I have, not what I wish I could have (like so-and-so does). It must involve looking at my mess of a meal and being proud to serve something that was prepared with so much love and such good intentions.
The journey continues.
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