KID PARTY REVIEW

If you have kids you’ve had a kid party.

If you have kids and haven’t had a party, shame on you.

They only turn ONE once.

If you miss that, shoot for two, three, four, five.

You get it?

My first kid party, as a dad, happened at SE 11th and Lincoln, Portland Oregon.

The baby looked good, the crowd looked good.

But it reminded me of family pictures of parents taking their two year old to Disneyland.

Who’s going to remember the trip, kid or parents?

Know who’s going to remember my latest kid birthday:

Me.

Whether it’s a first, a 30th, or a 168th like mine, do it with the idea of living with the memories.

The first step to making memories is a plan, then showing up ready to work it.

My first as a dad was easy.

From parents to grandparents, kids and friends, everyone was present and accounted for, which is one of my tics.

Be present and accounted for and add something to time spent together.

I’m not sure anything could be added to the first party.

I was still in a walking-coma from assisting with the home birth of my first born.

What I remember about that day was how much labor-coaching sounded like a high school wrestling match.

Something must have clicked in both my home births.

They both became high school wrestlers.

Memories Need To Be Made

Whether it’s the first, thirtieth, or two hundred and sixty-eighth, kid parties are a signal:

Time is passing, running, fleeting; time is now, right then.

Sharing that time is the best memory.

I looked at my daughter in-law at thirty and thought, ‘If you say so.’

Then looked at myself and thought, ‘Three hundred and sixty-eight? Who says so?’

To those who might say adult birthday parties should be outlawed:

“You’re not invited.”

Remember, It’s Your Kid Party Too

The best part of a kid party is when the birthday girl makes it everyone’s party.

It happened last night.

Just like my first year as a dad party, last night had a vibe.

Was it because of two ace delivery nurses together? Maybe.

Or the BIG GAME? Since it wasn’t the Cowboys, no.

It’s a feeling you get when young and old mix together, babies and dogs, moms and dads.

I like to call it life. Or, better yet:

Life!

Give it your best; do it with love.