Do you remember your first birthday party? Good. I don't either. I do know (because of video evidence) that I fell out of my high chair while eating cake. After planning, throwing and surviving the 1st birthday of my own child, I now firmly believe I threw myself out of that high chair in an attempt to avoid birthday parties, mine and those of others, for the rest of my life.
The earliest real birthday party memory I have is of my 8th birthday. Mom and dad splurged for "Happy the Clown" and a Muppet Babies cake. This was 1991 y'all. "Happy" was from Hillsville proper. She made balloon hats and pulled a bunny from a hat. It was the best birthday ever.
Now, in 2016, I would venture to say that an 8-year-old girl would not be satisfied with Hillsville Happy and a Kermit cake.
A Cinderella-esque ball and a 3-tiered, diamond encrusted cake? Maybe.
I never intended for "the birthday party" to be more than cake, ice cream and possibly a few balloons...with helium! I didn't even start planning "the birthday party" until January.
Several Pinterest searches later and "the birthday party" had turned into "THE" birthday party. It was a full-fledged production, complete with (yes) a 2-tiered cake, a photo booth, rainbow pretzels, rainbow cake pops, a sand art table, and about 2735 man hours of hard labor.
We invited all of our nearest and dearest. They came clad with presents that we are still finding places for. They took photos in the rainbow photo booth. They ate rainbow cake and took home rainbow cake pops. They oohed and aahed at the color of it all, probably silently thinking to themselves, "How in the world did she talk Bradley into paying for a rainbow party?" (The same way I talked him into a rainbow wedding, a rainbow nursery, and a year's worth of rainbow baby pictures. You can sign up for my "charm" seminar in a future blog..)
But ya know what...they came.
Our girl will never, ever remember that day. She won't remember the rainbows, the presents, or the cake. She won't remember how tired she was and how mommy had to open most of the presents. She won't even remember who was there.
She will know what a special day it was because she will continue to be surrounded by these people who showed up to celebrate the first year of her life. She will know, because they will be there to celebrate her every birthday, accomplishment and celebration. They will also be there to lift her up in times that aren't celebratory, but maybe difficult and challenging. These people are her village. Our village.
I am two months and a lifetime late to say thank you. It truly takes a village to raise a child. Our cup, and our village, most definitely runneth over.
"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it." Proverbs 22:6
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