By Sarah Hauser
@sarah.j.hauser

We were homebound with sickness, quarantined from pretty much everyone except our pediatrician. The kids had double ear infections, and I had the flu—or some other demon virus intent on making us all miserable. I was also five months pregnant, but I looked and felt like a full-term mama whale. And aren’t whales pregnant for like a year? 

Did I mention it was the twins’ second birthday? The day almost passed us by, if not for the family and friends who wished them a happy birthday from a distance. We traded forkfuls of cake for syringes filled with medicine, and I never got around to getting their gifts. They’re only two, I reminded myself. They won’t remember.

They won’t remember we canceled their party and saved the tiger-striped plates and zebra-print napkins for next year. They probably wouldn’t have noticed the adorable zoo-themed party decor I ordered, anyway. The flour, sugar, and butter sat unused. I hope they won’t remember the unfulfilled promise of cake, because the only meals consumed involved dry crackers and chicken soup.

Usually kid birthdays cause fear and trembling for me. Tell me to host a bunch of adults, and I’ve got it covered. Ask me to hang with a group of toddlers, and panic ensues. When their second birthday came and went without a hint of fanfare, though, the disappointment caught me by surprise. Before the arrival of their little sibling, I just wanted a sweet celebration with my twins, a time to savor and celebrate that we’re all still (mostly) standing after two years together. 

Instead, I was beached on the couch with a box of tissues and Tylenol at the ready. We picked up prescriptions instead of blowing out candles, wiped off snotty noses instead of cake crumbs. 

Happy birthday, kids. We’ll try again next year.

***

Their three-year-old party went fine. We had family over, and I made something for dinner. I hung a birthday banner from the dollar section at Target above the fireplace, and I think I bought a few gifts. But postpartum is a b****, and I honestly don’t remember much. I think there are pictures somewhere.

There’s always next year.

***

I felt excited for year four. I don’t excel at Pinterest-y kid parties, so my husband and I planned to take the twins to a hotel overnight. We’d play games, watch movies, eat snacks, and splash in the overly-chlorinated indoor pool. They’d never stayed in a hotel, and I knew they’d love it. My brother and sister-in-law planned to watch our youngest so we could enjoy undivided attention with the twins, time we hadn’t really had since baby number three came along. 

But sickness struck. Again. I guess that happens when your birthday occurs during the flu season. We canceled the hotel and thankfully, we never told the kids our plans in the first place. We tacked on a party to one my sister-in-law had already planned for my niece. The twins didn’t know the difference—they just knew there was cake, presents, and a bunch of people to celebrate them. Success, I suppose, and I’m sure grateful for my family coming in at the eleventh hour to make a celebration happen. 

That hotel would have been fun, though. Maybe next year.

***

It’s year five, and their birthday is in a few weeks. I’m holding plans loosely. In fact, I have no idea what we’re doing. We’ll do something, I think. I’m trying to not let past disappointment breed pessimism. It’ll just get canceled or moved or someone will throw up the night before anyway, I catch myself thinking. 

But they’re at the age when they start remembering, the age when they anticipate this day for months, the age when they ask for very specific gifts I’m not sure even exist (is there a unicorn-Elsa-sloth fuzzy blanket anywhere?). I want to give them gifts we can’t afford and throw the Unicorn-Truck themed party of their dreams (with boy-girl twins, the party themes get interesting). 

I want this silly little party to be an expression of how crazy I am about these kids. But when sickness, schedules, finances, my lack of crafting skills, and life get in the way, I fear they’ll miss that message. 

They’re only five, I remind myself. When it comes to parties, they’re pretty happy with store-bought cake, a few balloons, and anything covered in wrapping paper. Maybe they’ll start remembering parties that didn’t go as planned or realize their birthdays were often a little simpler than others’. 

But I think they’ll also remember the family that gathered around and the two pieces of chocolate cake they got to eat. Maybe if they’re sick they’ll remember snuggling together on the couch or getting to watch a movie at 9 a.m. or curling up with the unicorn-Elsa-sloth fuzzy blanket I tracked down (I didn’t by the way, but let me know if you have any leads on one). 

Whatever happens this year, I will make sure my kids know how crazy I am about them. I will let them know how much I celebrate them and love them and am grateful for every year of their life. Some years, that happens with chicken soup and movies. This year, I’m planning a party. But thankfully, love isn’t measured in birthday parties, and foiled plans on one day don’t negate the love they’re shown on the other 364. 

And if the party doesn’t pan out, we’ll try again next year.

Easiest Chocolate-Cherry Cake

I typically try to write simple, homemade recipes with real ingredients. But sometimes, store-bought is where it’s at. My mom used to make this cake when I was growing up, especially when she needed something quick and easy to serve for a dessert. It’s honestly one of my favorite chocolate cakes ever, and perfect for making kid birthday parties a little easier.

1 box Devil’s food cake mix, plus whatever ingredients your box brand calls for (usually water, oil, and eggs)

1 (21-ounce) can cherry pie filling

Frosting of choice, vanilla ice cream, or whipped cream, optional

Spray a 9x13 or other baking pan with cooking spray. Preheat your oven to the temperature indicated on your box of cake mix. 

In a medium bowl, mix together the cake mix with the ingredients required on the package directions. Stir in the can of cherry pie filling, and pour the cake batter into the prepared baking pan.

Bake according to the cake mix instructions. It may take a couple minutes longer to bake than the box directions indicate, since the cherry pie filling adds extra liquid to the batter.

Let the cake cool. Top with frosting and serve with ice cream or whipped cream. Enjoy!

Words and photos by Sarah Hauser.