Too Much?

There was another little caveat to the end-of-soccer story I told yesterday, but I didn't want to ruin the cute celebratory pictures and optimistic tone with my pointless anger. 

But everybody loves pointless anger, right? 

(Also I might as well split the whole soccer thing up into two posts, seeing as I'm about 15 posts behind on my 365 goal.  You're lucky I don't start a new post for each separate sentence.) 

Anyway, I was talking about soccer.  Here's how it all went down:

Toward the end of the season, two other moms and I began discussing the end-of-season celebration.  We figured we'd have a low-key gathering on the field right after the last game, during which the kids would get their trophies, the coach would get his gift, pictures would be taken, snacks would be eaten ... and then soccer season would be over.  After all, these are four- and five-year-old boys; they would neither expect nor enjoy some big formal banquet.  And, as much as we all enjoyed and appreciated the soccer league, I think we were all ready to close the door on this year's soccer season.  Plus, we especially didn't need another big evening celebration the week of Halloween. 

Now, full disclosure, we did not consult the rest of the team's parents on the nature of the end-of-season party.  (Though it probably is worth noting that one of the moms who made the tri-lateral decision with me was the Team Mom.)  However, we figured nobody would have a problem with an essentially free gathering after a game they already had to be at anyway. 

So, to facilitate this easy gathering, I offered to bring doughnuts.  My friend Tabitha offered to bring juice.  Team Mom Vickie sent out an email to the rest of the team's parents, announcing the post-game gathering and telling parents they were free to contribute additional snacks to the party. 

Naturally, there was dissent.  One mom wondered why we couldn't have an evening dinner gathering at Culver's or Aurelio's Pizza.  So, Vickie, being kind-hearted and accommodating, threw out the issue for discussion. 

And, I, being petty and pointlessly angry, started to have a problem with the whole thing. 

The pettiest part of my anger stemmed from being offended by the fact that somebody would dare to have a problem with the stupid little party that my friends and I planned without consulting everybody.  And sure, given my recent measures of austerity, I didn't want to pay for an additional meal out after I already spent $20 on doughnuts for everybody. 

But, I think some of my frustration was part of a bigger-picture issue.  And bigger-picture issues are what good blog posts are made of.  So here goes:

Are celebrations getting too out-of-control for today's kids? 

Now, I'm not suggesting that I'm the first person ever to come up with this question.  You can't throw a virtual stick in the mom blogosphere without hitting a post where somebody complains about how out-of-control children's birthday parties have become, or somebody questions whether this level of fanfare over [insert occasion here] is really necessary. 

So while I wasn't the first person to address this problem of excessive celebration, I am bringing it up now because this is the first time that I myself have become concerned about it. 

Sure, I read about out-of-control birthday parties.  But I live in a fairly modest suburb where we mostly keep our celebrations under control, and I just figured if wealthy people in other areas wanted to have out-of-control celebrations, that was their business and I was fine with it if they could afford it. 

And, yes, I observed the ante slowly being upped for other occasions, even where I live.  More and more, families were contributing entire little goody bags for every holiday at Nathan's preschool.  Martha Stewart is advocating gifts for every single day of Advent.  Easter, Halloween, Valentine's Day--these are all occasions where children now get actual gifts instead of just candy.  And with the number of activities and celebrations, it sometimes feels like there's a separate little mini "holiday season" surrounding Halloween and Easter now, too.  Even the fact that we provide snacks at every single soccer game seems a tad coddling. 

But I took it all in stride.  I recognized that I was perpetuating the problem just as much as anybody else was, so I had no right to complain.  Yeah, it's excessive, but I don't have a strong enough backbone to go all rogue and boycott holidays.  And for the most part, I think these celebrations are fun.  I happily go to children's birthday parties, delighting in the opportunity to see kids having fun together.  I like Halloween parties, pumpkin patches, and Easter egg hunts.  I recognize that these activities are voluntary, and that I could skip them if I wanted to. 

Bottom line, I never had a problem with the types of celebrations that kids today participate in.  Sure, I hear people all the time saying things to the effect of, "When I was a kid, you got [insert piddly token] on [insert occasion] and you liked it.  These kids today are spoiled!"  And, whether or not these sorts of statements were accurate, I just shrugged them off.  Things are different for every generation.  Some things are better, like the fun celebrations.  But some things are worse, like the constant terror over child predators.  You take the good with the bad.  It's not better or worse these days; it's just different. 

However, when we start assuming that children will be disappointed if we don't have a special, separate dinner gathering to celebrate the end of soccer, I've finally been pushed to my limit.  I'm now officially an old fuddy-duddy, a buzz kill, and a party pooper. 

So, this probably comes as no surprise, but our family skipped the Culver's gathering.  But what may or may not come as a surprise is that I agonized over this decision.  Was I doing Nathan a disservice by making him skip the party because of my own petty disagreements?  What would the other parents think? 

And really, the two driving forces between all these excessive celebrations are I don't want my child to feel deprived and I worry about what the other parents will think.  Which, honestly, are two forces to which I never hoped to succumb, but there it is. 

(Let me also acknowledge a much more minor, but still significant, driving force: If Target sells this particular item to celebrate this particular holiday, it must be A Thing now and I must buy it.) 

I'm not suggesting that I've come to any great conclusions RE: the whole excessive celebration thing.  I'd like to resolve that Nathan is only getting repurposed, decorated rocks instead of action figures this Christmas!  And for his birthday, we will invite three friends to come over and play Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and the donkey will be drawn on the back of an old cereal box! 

But it's not going to happen.  For Christmas I'll buy him a bunch of colorful plastic toys, and for his birthday we'll have a fun celebration at an outside-our-home facility so that I won't have to cook or clean.  Because my parents took those measures to make my childhood special, and I will do the same for Nathan. 

However, in the spirit of gradual change, I do think my new awareness of/aversion to our society's excessive celebrations will guide some of my decisions regarding future celebrations.  Maybe I can buy him one fewer Christmas gifts.  Maybe I can spend less on the goody bags for his birthday party.  Maybe all children really need to have fun is a place where they can run around and poke at each other. 

And, above all else, we all need to remember that nothing we do or don't do regarding holiday celebrations is going to scar our children for life.