Ten-Year-Old Boy Birthday Party Ideas
That’s a whole lot of outgoing cash five times a year via birthdays. But not here.
I’ll let you in on a little secret… the way we do birthdays around here…
First…Birthdays are a BIG deal to me.
It’s the day God chose to bring you fully into the world. I’m not the best at getting to everyone else’s birthday but if you live within these four walls then I do like to make a bit of a fuss. But it’s a simple fuss. And I am blessed to have children that appreciate the simple fuss.
See – we aren’t balloon-jumping-room people. We don’t rent “facilities” for the first birthday (or any). And no offence to anyone who does. But that’s just not my style. In fact… I don’t like to do much of anything for that first birthday. I selfishly want that baby all to myself. My poor extended family has to invite themselves over half the time cause I just want to love my little one and not entertain.
I’ll tell you what I DO do…
- I use the chalkboard. A simple celebration gets scratched on the chalkboard at night for the person/child to wake up to the next morning.
- We decorate the bedroom and the kitchen. At night while the little one is asleep Joel and I sneak in and silently hang crèpe paper and a happy birthday banner all over, from wall to wall. Like some sort of laser, spy course. The children love waking up to this and have come to expect it.
- I bake a cake. Their choice. Sometimes they choose their momma’s earth shaking blueberry pie… sometimes they choose my Hot Fudgy Pudding and sometimes they choose one of my chocolate cakes. It’s their call if they want to “sell out” (hahahaha) and go commercial and have me decorate it like some sort of Disney character or something, but I always bake a cake. Sometimes I’m on top of it and it’s a masterpiece and sometimes it’s a disaster. I am only one woman after all and I tend to get too big for my britches in the cake baking department. Once Hoolie requested a Lamb Cake (cause she’s my little lamb) and the damn head fell off while we were singing to her. Sigh.
- I make whatever they want for breakfast and dinner. They name it. They get it.
Those are the basics that every family member gets, every year.
And every OTHER year they can have a birthday party. You know, they kind with their friends. They are the most blessed children in the world. Healthy, born in America and I tell you what (hate me if you must) but they don’t need a birthday party every stinking year. That would be five months out of the year where Momma is under way to much pressure to be awesome and if you think about it that could easily add up to about $3,000 a year when all the little nit-picky errands, the meals, the cake, the balloons, the invites, the gifts… with every I dotted and every T crossed. So EVERY OTHER year it is.
Well, as I said in a recent Periscope (you can catch all my scopes at Katch.me) it’s been a long year + of writing this cookbook (From France to the Farm) and some pretty fun blog posts have taken the back burner and I’ve always wanted to share with you this Ten Year Old Boy Birthday Idea!
(Actually, now that I think about it I think he was nine! I must have been so busy with a new baby I never blogged this!)
Forget fussy Momma! Give the boy what he wants.
Give him a FOOD FIGHT!
Bring on the mess, bring on the chaos and let boys be boys (for heavens sake!).
Here’s how I did it. I mean, I had to make it a little cool right???
I made an easy email invite announcing the first ever Half-Way Farm Food Fight in honor of Aidan’s birthday. In it I warned the mothers it was going to be a doozy and suggested a change of clothes, I invited them to watch and asked them to bring the grossest food they could to contribute.
I bought cheap white t-shirts. One for each guest. Like these.
I bought iron on decals. Like these.
I made a graphic on PicMoneky.com that said the boys name and another that said, “I Survived the Half-Way Farm Food Fight”
(If you make your own food fight t-shirts be SURE to hit the reverse button on picMonky or your printer. They need to print in reverse so they iron on legible!!!)
I also made a garbage bag full of spaghetti and a garbage bag FULL of oatmeal and set it in PILES on the table. I bought CHEAP giant bottles of squirt jelly and ketchup. Relish. You name it. People bought flour, jello snack packs and all manner of messy, staining food!
We bought some nasty hot dogs for lunch, built a fire in the fire pit and let the boys make their own food.
They ran wild while I took their grocery bags of food contributions to a small card table out in the big yard. (Boys don’t need organized games. Just let them do their thing.)
Then about thirty minutes before the end of the party, we called the boys over to the clothesline.
I had hung all the t-shirts on the line. Each boy tossed off his “good shirt” and put on his food fight shirt. We planted them each some distance from the table. Laid a couple ground rules (without being too overbearing) and Joel shouted on your marks, get set, GO!
And for the next thirty minutes, those boys (and a little sister to boot) giggled, screamed, ran, squirted… parents stood a safe distance to watch and take photos and the first annual Half-Way Farm Food Fight took place!
Finally, when every bit of food was gone we called the chickens over to clean up for us (genius, I know) and took the boys over to the ice cold hose for a scrubbin’ before they got in their parent’s cars to go home.
I have to say this “Ten Year Old Boy Birthday Party Idea” was so much fun.
It was amazing to see Aidan run wild and giggle and throw food at his Dad (Joel was the only Dad who offered to join in) and it was interesting to see how reserved some of the boys were… how crazy they thought it was to be encouraged… to have permission to go nuts. I doubt they’ll ever forget it. Everyone took their t-shirts home in a bag with strict directions not to wash them for a day or two… to really let the stains soak in.
Aidan said it was the best birthday ever. And I have to say — I felt like super-Momma.
Thanks for looking back in time… more memories to come as I play catch up after more than a year of book writing…