No Theme, No Stress - Blow and Make a Wish

My son Cheeks turns four June 24. I have almost exactly two months to (un)prepare.

Usually I'd be in a stressed out huff by now, trolling www.orientaltrading.com for themed baseball or pirate party sets, hopefully no pricier than $2.95 per guest. Of course I'd also scramble to nail down a themed, stuffed to the seams piñata, helium balloons and the crowning inflated jewel of the party - a colossal bounce house.

What about the invitations? If you know me, I'm as much of a slacker when it comes to those as I am at sending thank you cards. It's strictly Evite for me and email thank yous for you.

Next, I'd stress the party menu. Triangular gourmet paninis for the adults or cutesy cookie cutter shaped, monogrammed PB & Js for the kids. Aw, it's all so Martha Stewart I could puke. Last year my son opted for a chopper motorcycle themed party, complete with checkered racing flags, a fancy chopper piñata and an amazing finale featuring his uncle's real, unfathomably loud and awesome Harley chopper. My son was higher on happiness (or chopper exhaust fumes).



I was far less elevated, having dished out 600 smackers on the party, which only a third of those who RSVP'd yes showed up to. That's 600 bills before the cost of his presents from his siblings, myself and his papa. Not this year. No way. Perhaps not ever again.

Drag out the wet blanket and promptly place it over the birthday candles spiking out of the overpriced, in keeping with the theme frosting heap called a cake. Meet William Doherty, a University of Minnesota social sciences professor whose mission is to take the pressure out of over-the-top, extravagant themed kids' birthday parties. (I wish I'd heard of him several thousand birthday party dollars ago, when I threw my first massive, superhero steroid injected parties at the park for my first son, starting six years ago.)

"Mothers run these parties and compare notes," Doherty said in a recent interview with USA Today. "It's the one mother out of 10 or 20 who ups the ante, then the others fall into place. That's what's so insidious about this."

Doherty is a member of Birthdays Without Pressure (BWP), a St. Paul group that wants parents to subtract mucho money, themes and stress from birthday celebrations. Is there a local BWP and when can I sign up? Read more about BWP and Doherty here. Read about the biggest birthday bashes here to see how bad it's gotten.

This year we'll invite Cheeks' cousins and a neighborhood friend or two (I'm thinking eight kids tops, including his two sibs), to the local park to grub on take-out pizza and juice, where we'll play for two or three stress-free, plain and simple hours.

If I cave and make favor bags, they will be as they always have been for our celebrations -- plain paper lunch bags that my children decorate with glitter, rubber stamps and whatever sparkly mess we can dig up from the overstuffed art box in the garage. They will be filled with 99 Cent Store penny racers and bubbles, or maybe with animal shaped lint balls from the Hubster's bellybutton.

At first I wanted to host Cheeks' party at the local rock climbing gym. He loved climbing there last Winter at his friend Maggie's sixth birthday. You should have seen him beam with pride (and a smattering of brow sweat) when he climbed to the very top and scaled his way back down again. I was impressed by the letter shaped hand and foot holds. The party was simple, fun and classy. Still, renting rock gym space isn't cheap.

Instead, I'll reserve a spot at a nearby nature park. I believe the rocks there are free, and so are the trees. No theme. No breaking the bank. No competition and NO STRESS. What's not to celebrate? Cheeks will still delight in a frosting topped cake that he will help decorate (he likes scraping the batter bowl better, I think). If guests should bring presents, he will open them.

When we look back on Shutterfly at Cheeks' big day, I'm sure we won't see any children sitting at the foot of a Eucalyptus or palm tree, mopping up tears shed over not bouncing into oblivion in a Batman bounce house. I have no doubt that the kids probably won't even notice the lack of batter dipped extravagance and trademarked superhero paper cups and plates, even if their mothers do.