How To Throw a Birthday Party for a 2-year Old

BY DAVE BARRY

(This classic Dave Barry column was originally published April 21, 2002, in the Miami Herald.)

TODAY'S PARENTING TOPIC IS: Planning a birthday party for your two-year-old child.

The first thing you must decide, when planning a birthday party for a two-year-old, is: Should you invite the two-year-old? Because a child that age can put a real damper on a party. And probably your child doesn't really understand that he or she is turning two. One of the best things about small children is that they have no clue how time works. My two-year-old daughter believes that everything that has ever happened, including her birth and the formation of the solar system, occurred ``yesterday.''

I have a friend named Helene who made excellent use of this phenomenon when her children were small. If they wanted to do something that, for whatever reason, they couldn't do, Helene, rather than argue, would tell them they could do it on ''Tuesday.'' If her kids wanted to go swimming, and it was January, Helene would say: ''We'll go swimming on Tuesday!'' And they were satisfied, because they had a definite answer, even though it actually had no meaning. (Airport flight-information monitors are based on the same principle.)

Unfortunately, as people grow older, they come to understand the concept of time, unless they are my wife. (Just kidding!) (Not really!) But most two-year-olds have no idea what ''two years old'' means, and would not notice if you held their birthday party after they went to bed.

Another low-stress option is to wait until your child is invited to some OTHER two-year-old's birthday party, and when you get there, tell your child that the party is actually for him or her. (''Look, Jason! Your name is written right here on the cake! L-I-S-A!'')

Of course, the foregoing suggestions are intended in a purely humorous vein. (Not really!) Unless you are a Bad Parent, you must throw a birthday party for your two-year-old, and you must invite other two-year-olds, and THEY MUST HAVE FUN, even if they don't want to. This is why so many birthday parties feature rental clowns, even though few things are more terrifying to small children than a clown at close range. Stephen King based an entire novel on this concept.

Another fun thing that two-year-olds do not enjoy is organized activities. Most two-year-olds are happiest when they are free to wander around in a non-organized way. So it can be quite a chore to herd a group of them together for organized birthday fun. But you must do this, or the terrorists will have won.

When our daughter turned two, we had a big party at our house. That was over a month ago, and we're still finding cake frosting in unexpected places. Our house was filled with two-year-olds, running, falling, yelling, crying, pooping, etc., each with at least one adult in pursuit, trying to organize the child. I honestly didn't know who most of these children were, or how they found out about the party. Maybe the Internet. All I know is, the organized activity we had for them was: art. Yes! We invited small children to our house and DELIBERATELY GAVE THEM PAINT.

I believe the reason we did this is that our brains had been turned into cole slaw by the bouncy castle. A bouncy castle is a big rubber inflatable thing that you can rent for birthday parties, weddings, congressional hearings, etc. The idea is that children can climb inside and bounce around and have a lot of fun, unless they find the bouncy castle to be even more terrifying than the rental clown.

My daughter LOVED the bouncy castle. That was the good news. The bad news was, the rental company set it up at 8 a.m., six hours before the party started. Once my daughter realized there was a bouncy castle in her yard, she had to be inside it, bouncing, at all times, and she felt very strongly that there had to be a parent in there bouncing with her. So by the time the guests started arriving, my wife and I had spent about three hours apiece bouncing our IQs down into the low teens, which is why we thought it would be fun to give art supplies to two-year-olds. I'm surprised we didn't let them drive the car.

Of course, we also gave them cake, because this is mandatory at birthday parties, even though historically there is no known case of any two-year-old ever actually eating so much as a single molecule of birthday cake. In fact, as far as I can tell, two-year-olds never eat ANYTHING. I think they nourish themselves via some kind of photosynthesis-like process that involves the direct absorption of Play-Doh.

In conclusion, holding a birthday party for two-year-olds is both fun and easy. All you have to do is follow a few simple steps! I will cover these on Tuesday.

Thoughts on mourning and comfort.

In my church we spend a great deal of time studying the scriptures. Along with the Bible, we have other scriptures that we believe contain the experiences and teachings of prophets who were called of God. One of our scriptures is called, The Book of Mormon, which is a record of God's people on the American continent.
One of the prophets from the Book of Mormon is named, Alma. He taught his people who were desirous to join God's true church that the requirements included being "willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." I've thought at length what that really means and have come to the conclusion that I have no clue.
A good friend of mine is now facing the loss of a loved one. To make matters more difficult, he lost someone who has always been a hero of his. How do I, as his friend, appropriately mourn and comfort him?
We believe that there is a glorious life after death, and that all will have the opportunity of hearing the true gospel and being resurrected like Jesus Christ was. We also believe that through a life a service, sacrifice, and obedience, family relationships can be preserved for all eternity. This knowledge is comforting to anyone who has ever lost someone special to them, and I know that my friend believes in this sweet promise from God. But the hard part is dealing with death from now until then. After the loss of someone very important to me, I knew that he was in Heaven, I knew that he was happy, and I knew that I would be with him again. My problem was the thought of life, this life, without him in it. Perhaps, that's where pain comes from in death; not from wondering if that person is alright, but from wondering if we're going to be alright without them.

To my friend who may or may not stand in need of more comfort, my heart aches that you have to be without him for a time. All I can offer you is my personal conviction and testimony of the words of inspired prophets. I know the Savior suffered, died, and was resurrected. Because of that sacrifice, peace can be found right now and families can be together forever. I love and pray for you.

For My Mother

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

-Billy Collins

Once upon a time, there was a boy and his dragon...

I recently had cause to recall an experience from my mission. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I had the opportunity to go to Tokyo, Japan, to teach people about what we believe in. Missionaries are always in pairs: two men or two women, and are called a "companionship." This story is about one of my companions, Elder Cavallo.

LDS missionaries are given one day a week to take care of laundry, shopping and other personal things. One day, We went to the international market to buy a few things that you normally couldn't find in Japan. In the dairy section, Elder Cavallo found some cheese. Yes, cheese. Now, this wasn't ordinary cheese. The cheese came in these little, wax wheels. For 10 or 12 dollars he purchased an entire mesh sack of these cheese wheels, and, with the excitement of a post-menopausal woman at a taping of "Oprah," he skipped and sang and consumed those rounded cheeses all the way home.

The next morning, during the time that we were supposed to be studying the scriptures, I heard these strange shuffling noises. I looked over to investigate further and, to my surprise, Elder Cavallo had spent an obviously great amount of time molding the wax wheels, which until just recently contained his precious cheeses, into an intricate dragon. I would have gotten mad at him and told him to put the wax away and study, if it weren't for the fact that it was really a good dragon. Teeth and a furled eyebrow and everything.

I laughed and said, "What are you doing?" He realized what he had been doing and how foolish it was and replied, "I've made a dragon."
"I can see that you've made a dragon. Why have you made a dragon?"
"I didn't have anything else to do."
"What about studying?"
"Oh, ya."
"Well, if you're not going to study, whatever you do, do something spiritual."
"Okay."

I went back to my books, laughing hysterically in my mind, but not showing it on my face. Another half hour went by and it was time to talk about our plans for the day. I looked over to find Elder Cavallo had used his markers and other odds and ends around his desk to create a home for his dragon. Not only that, but he had also fashioned the dragon to fold its arms (claws) and kneel down.
"Elder Cavallo! What is this?" At this point, I was no longer able to hide my laughter.
"You told me to do something spiritual. So, I've created the Prayer Dragon!"
At the center of a surprisingly impressive desert scene was the Prayer Dragon: eyes closed, hands together with fingers interlocking, kneeling seiza-style, mouth open. Painted on the base were the words, "部屋を出るまえに..." Japanese for, "Ere you left your room this morning...," the opening line to the hymn, Did You Think To Pray?

The other companionship with whom we shared the apartment were immediately summoned and it was agreed that the Prayer Dragon would have a place above our doorway to remind us to pray before we left everyday.

The story continues. Our mission president decided to visit our apartment one day, just to make sure we weren't destroying the place. Mission presidents do this from time to time. As he left, his eye was drawn to our wax friend above the door. I think he was concerned that we perhaps were praying to the dragon, but we were quick to explain. Actually, we were quick to have Elder Cavallo explain. He didn't say anything out loud, but I'm sure he was thinking it: "that's a good dragon!"

Maya's Baby Blessing

Thanks to my dad for getting some great pictures of the family after Maya's baby blessing. Here are just a few of them.

This is Ai and her parents who came in from Japan for the occasion (okay, so they said that they came for a wedding, but let's be honest).

Here's the Blackhurst grandparents who came all the way from Sandy, Utah.

A Thought On Mastering Something

I have to thank my brother-in-law for this great quote.

“People who aim to master an art seem to say to themselves, “While I’m still not too good at this, I’ll keep it to myself and not let anyone know what I’m doing. People will be more impressed if I practice in private and show myself only after I’ve developed true skill.” But anyone who says such things will never learn a single art well. For it is the man who mingles with the masters even as a beginner, uninhibited by ridicule or laughter, always pushing ahead coolly -- it is that man, even if he has no special gift from birth, who will not stumble along the way or become too casual in his attitude. As the years pass, such a man will surpass one with natural gifts but no dedication, in the end arriving at a higher level of performance, expanding his talent constantly, and gaining the high opinion of the public as an artist of matchless reputation."

Yoshida Kenkoo (吉田兼好) (ca. 1330)

Failed Vocab Quiz

One of the funnest parts of being a parent is watching my children grow and develop. With each passing day there is a new phrase or word that my boy spits out, which usually causes my wife and I to wonder where the devil he picked it up.
Along with a new-found vocabulary often comes mishaps that confuse the poor toddler. The other day, he was practicing his newest word band addition: the word, "kick." He repeated it over and over, "kick, kick, kick," until he, apparently, got it all twisted and backwards in his head. Suddenly, "kick, kick, kick," turned into, "ckki...ckukie...cukie." In his 21-month old mind, he now heard, "cookie, cookie, cookie."
For the next several minutes, my wife was rallied with petitions for animal crackers.