The first party was such an event. Our first child’s first birthday party was, in a word, a first. This is not to say that successive years the significance of birthday parties has diminished. But firsts are firsts. With practice we’ve gotten better at the parties. Practice makes perfect.
In short, though, we’ve found that it’s simpler to pay other people to do the big stuff — the food, the cake, the drinks — while we focus on the fun. This year, an ice skating party. The Girl had a head-start, or perhaps foot-start, with all the roller skating she did this autumn on our fresh concrete drive. Her first ice adventure was halting, with complete reliance on the walker-like skating aid. This year, after a few minutes’ instruction, she was ready to head off on her own.
In a sense, that’s what birthday parties are all about, getting children ready to head off on their own. In her own time, in her own time, some might say. Still, even a seventh birthday is a suggestion of the development that is simultaneously distant and just around the bend.
I only have to look at E to be reminded how quickly it can pass.