Here’s my anecdote of what awesome things my parents did for me as a kid to inspire any parents out there:
My sister and I had adventures for birthday parties. These were not your typical go-to-ChuckECHeese’s parties and never involved going anywhere other than our own house and yard—but that house had been transformed by my parents into a wild and glorious place. Starting weeks in advance, my parents would prepare a storyline and set of challenges for us and the party guests to face. Rooms would be locked up or door knobs removed, and windows concealed as they went about decorating. And on the morning of the party, mysterious objects would appear throughout the house and more places were closed off. When the guests arrived, the presents would be intercepted from them and spirited away somewhere and the children would gather in the starting room, gazing at the streamers and decorations that revealed this years theme; an adventure in space, a medieval castle, dense jungles. When all had arrived, the event began.
Always something happens to the presents—stolen by pirates, taken away by wild animals, hidden by the traitor who murdered the king. Our goal was to solve the mystery and recover the presents. Now, the party took form—a message left behind or a trail leading us into another room. There we might encounter a familiar party game but always, always in the theme of the party. Often some small reward for all the guests who made it to through the trial (which was always everyone) - a small animal or cheap toy, but immediately cherished for the work that went into getting it. And everywhere, there were mysteries. Coded messages revealed by dropping some liquid into a sequence of beakers and watching what colors they turned. Mysterious recordings left for us to listen to and figure out where next to go. A chess board that we were slowly given moves to make until finally we found the piece that had killed the king. Cards scattered across the house revealing a message.
And special effects worthy, in the mind of a child, of any film. Moody colored lighting (fun to play with after the party was over), dry ice for fog, and the cakes! The cakes were always a thing of wonder; hidden compartments revealing the next clue only after we had eaten; frothing volcanoes; dragons with flaming nostrils.
Until finally we would reach the last room, the room that had been locked up for days now. Not a surface in there was undecorated. Dripping jungles and fantastical landscapes made incarnate in that final room so much more so even than in the rest of the party. And if that was not reward enough—the presents at long last recovered and the mysteries solved! But not just for the birthday boy or girl, for there would always be individual miniature pinatas, one for each guest. (To me, this is what pinatas are. Those big things where only one person gets to swing and the slowest kid always feels left out of the candy grad—those are not pinatas.) These gifts had been earned.
As best as I can recall, none of this is an exaggeration. The amount of effort they went through must have been enormous, but oh how we loved it—all of us. I looked forward to my sister’s birthdays almost as much as I looked forward to my own. And our friends loved them too. Years later, in college I had a friend come up to me and ask me about my birthday parties, not because I had known him at the time of the parties, but because our mutual friend who had been going to those parties for years had told them about them. They stopped after our tenth birthdays, but we still continued this on many holidays on a much smaller scale—there were inevitably puzzles to solve to get at least one present on Christmas morning.
I doubt this had any bearing on rationality, but in terms of happiness? Unbeatable. Challenge yourselfs; make holidays at least as much fun as a giant Blue Screen of Death blocking off half the house until the intrepid guests tear it down and reveal the adventure beyond.
Here’s my anecdote of what awesome things my parents did for me as a kid to inspire any parents out there:
My sister and I had adventures for birthday parties. These were not your typical go-to-ChuckECHeese’s parties and never involved going anywhere other than our own house and yard—but that house had been transformed by my parents into a wild and glorious place. Starting weeks in advance, my parents would prepare a storyline and set of challenges for us and the party guests to face. Rooms would be locked up or door knobs removed, and windows concealed as they went about decorating. And on the morning of the party, mysterious objects would appear throughout the house and more places were closed off. When the guests arrived, the presents would be intercepted from them and spirited away somewhere and the children would gather in the starting room, gazing at the streamers and decorations that revealed this years theme; an adventure in space, a medieval castle, dense jungles. When all had arrived, the event began.
Always something happens to the presents—stolen by pirates, taken away by wild animals, hidden by the traitor who murdered the king. Our goal was to solve the mystery and recover the presents. Now, the party took form—a message left behind or a trail leading us into another room. There we might encounter a familiar party game but always, always in the theme of the party. Often some small reward for all the guests who made it to through the trial (which was always everyone) - a small animal or cheap toy, but immediately cherished for the work that went into getting it. And everywhere, there were mysteries. Coded messages revealed by dropping some liquid into a sequence of beakers and watching what colors they turned. Mysterious recordings left for us to listen to and figure out where next to go. A chess board that we were slowly given moves to make until finally we found the piece that had killed the king. Cards scattered across the house revealing a message.
And special effects worthy, in the mind of a child, of any film. Moody colored lighting (fun to play with after the party was over), dry ice for fog, and the cakes! The cakes were always a thing of wonder; hidden compartments revealing the next clue only after we had eaten; frothing volcanoes; dragons with flaming nostrils.
Until finally we would reach the last room, the room that had been locked up for days now. Not a surface in there was undecorated. Dripping jungles and fantastical landscapes made incarnate in that final room so much more so even than in the rest of the party. And if that was not reward enough—the presents at long last recovered and the mysteries solved! But not just for the birthday boy or girl, for there would always be individual miniature pinatas, one for each guest. (To me, this is what pinatas are. Those big things where only one person gets to swing and the slowest kid always feels left out of the candy grad—those are not pinatas.) These gifts had been earned.
As best as I can recall, none of this is an exaggeration. The amount of effort they went through must have been enormous, but oh how we loved it—all of us. I looked forward to my sister’s birthdays almost as much as I looked forward to my own. And our friends loved them too. Years later, in college I had a friend come up to me and ask me about my birthday parties, not because I had known him at the time of the parties, but because our mutual friend who had been going to those parties for years had told them about them. They stopped after our tenth birthdays, but we still continued this on many holidays on a much smaller scale—there were inevitably puzzles to solve to get at least one present on Christmas morning.
I doubt this had any bearing on rationality, but in terms of happiness? Unbeatable. Challenge yourselfs; make holidays at least as much fun as a giant Blue Screen of Death blocking off half the house until the intrepid guests tear it down and reveal the adventure beyond.