Kids’ Birthday Parties

Since when did it become normal to have alcohol at children’s birthday parties?

I recently came across an article in Parents magazine that stopped me in my tracks. It suggested that children’s birthday parties can be overwhelming for parents. Between the sensory overload of excited kids, endless games, and the constant rotation of weekend birthday celebrations, it’s understandable that adults might want something that feels like it’s for them, too.

The article goes on to suggest that, depending on the atmosphere you’re trying to create, serving alcohol can be a great option because it allows the adults to have fun too. A party with drinks often takes on a more social vibe, where parents linger and chat, while a party without alcohol tends to feel more structured, with the focus remaining on the children’s games and activities. In those settings, the birthday cake becomes the main event instead of a side note to the adults’ gathering.

Reading that made me reflect on our own experiences.

Two of our three children’s birthday celebrations were held at Great Wolf Lodge, an indoor water park. I invited my father, my two brothers, and their families. Our children were all close in age, just a year or two apart, making it the perfect place to spend the day together. We rented a two-bedroom suite with a common area stocked with snacks for both kids and adults—and a fully stocked bar.

The adults would buy a drink in the water park’s souvenir cup. Later, when their children were occupied, they’d quietly slip back to the room, mix a margarita or a rum and Coke into that same souvenir cup, and head back into the park unnoticed.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I was the one who provided the alcohol.

Today, I see it differently.

Am I being a Karen for questioning it? Or has drinking become so woven into our culture that we barely notice it’s expected—even at children’s birthday parties?

When did simply enjoying the water slides, wave pool, and excitement with our children—fully present—stop being enough?

Maybe it’s because I’m sober now, but places like that also make me anxious. Huge crowds, children darting in every direction, and the reality that predators exist make me feel like my attention should be on my kids, not on whether the adults are refilling their drinks.

Can I really blame everyone else when I was the one who stocked the bar? At the time, I wanted to be a good hostess. 

I don’t mean to be critical of parents , as everyone does it differently. Sobriety has changed the way I see moments like these. It has made me ask questions I never considered before.

Being a sober host is hard. You want everyone to have a good time, especially when your family has always associated celebrations with drinking. In our family, a party without alcohol would have seemed almost unthinkable.

But now I find myself wondering: how much of that day do they actually remember? They started drinking around 9:30 in the morning, and by the time we served cake around 6:00 that evening, alcohol had been part of the entire experience. You spend hundreds of dollars creating memories for your children, yet you experience much of the day through a haze, left with only snippets to recall.

It begs a bigger question: Why have we normalized numbing ourselves through parenthood?

Why is alcohol treated as the ingredient that makes an event enjoyable for adults?

Our children won’t remember whether we had a margarita in our hand.

They’ll remember whether we were truly there.

Our children are only little once. Isn’t being fully present with them enough?