Oh...it's a vicious circle...

So. The littlest kiddle had two birthday parties to go to this weekend, and his big sister was invited to the one today, which gave me a nice two hours to scarf down a sandwich and a cup of coffee and go back and get them. Big Sister and I had a nice time out on our own yesterday while Aiden was at the first birthday party. Now, let me tell you...this birthday thing is getting a tad out of control. It's like the ante is up and you never know what you're going to get when you walk into the home where the party is being held, which has likely been transformed into a five year old's dream come true on crack. It's madness. And then you travel to the backyard. Walt Disney wouldn't have even come up with something like this. Everywhere you look, there are bouncyjumpyhouseythings and bouncyjumpywaterslidethings and swingsets and a freakin smorgasboard of every possible food imaginable--everything from gummy bears to macaroni salad, ribs and a kegger for the parents (because let's face it--that's the only way most parents get through these things--good and liquered up)...children are running manically around in the accepted uniform of swimsuits and swim masks and everyonce in a while a child will randomly launch him or herself off the top of the blowupwaterslidethingy to the shreiks of the parents who scream through the kegger induced haze "HEY! WAAATCH IT!". I kid you not. It's a sight to behold.

Now, because I'm one of "those" parents (read=annoying), I drop off said kiddles at these parties so as not to lose what's left of my mind. It just ain't my thing. And I fully expect when it's my children's parties, that those other parents will feel free to drop off their children for two hours and go maintain some sense of adulthood.

So, after my two hours of sandwich scarfing and coffee guzzling, I returned to said homes to pick up the kiddles. What IS it about the "gift for coming" thing? I'm all about the goody bag--you get like a Twizzler, a sheet of stickers, a punch balloon and a whistle. Heck, when I was a kid you didn't even get that. You took your gift, ate some cake, pinned a tail on a paper donkey and left. Now, it appears, things have changed. Drastically. Yesterday, Aiden came home with a baseball bat and a ball. At first I thought he had nicked them off the birthday girl's big brother, but, um, no. They were his. GIFTS. Um. WHAT? Seriously? Geez. Fast forward to today. Upon leaving, Aiden, my polite, uber-good with manners says to the Mama Host, "I'm leaving now. Thank you for having me. Can I have my present now"? I nearly puked in the macaroni salad. As I was leaning in to tell him "Sweetie pie, we don't ask for gifts. You have a very nice lollipop right there", Mama Host says "Oh! I almost forgot! Here you go, Doll". A beach towel. A Brand New Beach Towel from the Disney Store. Was she kidding? I was praying she was kidding. But no.

Now, don't misunderstand, I'm not being ungrateful. I just don't understand where this is coming from--this "thank you gift" bit. It's like the $30,000 gift bag the celebrities get who present at the Oscars. We're now in the Gift Bag Game of preschool, and if you ask me, it's out of control. Who sends the thank you note in that case? The kid who got the birthday gift or the guest who got the gift for coming? And then where does it stop? Do we, as the receivers of the bat, baseball, and beach towel now have to reciprocate with a more mamajamma gift? If that's the case, by the time they're twelve, we'll have basketball hoops and jacuzzis in our back yard. Maybe it's not such a bad idea after all...

Either way, both my kids guests at their birthday parties this year will get gifts as well. A little goody bag, complete with Twizzler, a sheet of stickers, a punch balloon and a whistle.