We are in the throes of birthday preparations for almost-3-year-old. She couldn’t be more excited—and she has no concept of time—so every day I hear “Am I three yet, Mommy?” I have managed to plan out our party preparations to give her an idea of when it will be. Today we do treat bags, tomorrow we bake cupcakes, Friday we decorate.
Her party is Saturday, but her birthday is not until Monday. I have no idea how I would ever convince her that she is not 3 this weekend. It’s not important, so I won’t bother, but I do want her actual birthday to be special in some way. I think that’s how the “birthday dinner” was created in my family. Every year we get to choose our birthday dinner—we can go anywhere we want (within reason) or pick any menu for Mom to cook.
It has gotten quite predictable. Each year middle sis and I choose a steak house (with our birthdays 6 days apart and our family growing by leaps and bounds we are now forced to choose 1 steak house and share a meal), little sis chooses homemade beef and noodles, and my brother chooses crepes or lasagna. Every year. Without exception.
I mentioned the idea to my little birthday girl and told her she could choose anything she wanted for her birthday dinner and Mommy would cook it special for her. Her selection? Cupcakes. Okay, Mommy will make cupcakes for your birthday, but how about we choose something to eat for dinner too? She has her menu all planned out:
- grilled cheese
- peanut butter sandwiches
- apples
- hamburgers