This site is kept in loving memory of Trish Reske, who passed in October of 2021.
Trish was a writer - this site captures a bit of her incredible sense of humor.
You can read Trish's full obituary here.

Backyard Birthday Surprises

As a mom of four, I have planned, plotted and put on literally dozens of birthday parties over the years. Almost all of them have been hosted at the best party place in town – our backyard.

We’ve had Thomas the Tank Engine parties. We’ve had Elmo parties. We’ve had a Cinderella ball. We’ve had Star Wars parties, from Return of the Jedi to A New Hope. Our backyard has morphed from the Aussie Outback to the Wild Wild West with no landscaping modifications.

I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, this mom is pretty creative!” Well, no. I’m actually really just cheap. I frankly don’t want to fork a fistful of hard-earned cash over to Mr. Chuck E. Cheese. I’d rather just buy better pizza and create our own funhouse and prizes, without having to share the celebratory chaos with 100 other little screaming strangers in an over-crowed establishment.

Backyard parties foster fiscal —and mental —health. And they’re likely to be much more memorable. Trust me, I know.

Take our Backwards Party for example. I got the idea off the Internet, a great source for homegrown hullabaloos. I told my 7-year-old Jake, and he loved it.

“You get to do everything backwards,” I explained. “Like sing Happy Birthday backwards, play ‘Pin the Donkey on the Tail,’ run backwards relays, dress with your clothes on backwards…”

“Cool!” chimed in Jake. “Can I open presents before the cake, and can we put the frosting on the inside and eat the cake before the hotdogs?”

“You bet!”

We sent out thank you cards for the invites. Soon after, I got a call from one mom who was confused.

“I’m so sorry we missed Jake’s party,” she confessed. “I just got the thank you note…”

“It’s an invitation,” I explained. “To a backwards party. Get it? We sent thankyou cards instead of invites, with the party information on them.”

Silence.

“So… did you invite my son or not?”

“Yes! And tell him to dress backwards,” I added.

“What?”

“Just have him put his shirt on backwards. Thanks!” I hung up and rolled my eyes. Sometimes it pays not to be so forward-thinking.

The kids really got into it. They came bearing presents with inside-out wrapping paper and hand-made cards with the words written backwards. We sang “You To Birthday Happy” and then I lit the candles on the cake. It was pure silliness.

Joel’s Intergalactic Empire Strikes Back Extravaganza was a memorable winner as well. I bought Light Sabers for eight boys instead of worthless goody bags. They became instant Jedi Knights, gleefully wielding their flashy weapons. We had Light Saber Duels and a Death Star Piñata that I had fashioned out of paper mache and a balloon.

The boys lined up, light sabers poised, ready to collectively conquer the Death Star.

Joel, the birthday boy, was first in line for battle. Whack! The sword bent in two, the Death Star victorious.

“Don’t worry,” I quickly soothed my crying child. “I’ll get you something better than a Light Saber.”

I ran to the garage and retrieved a heavy metal baseball bat.

“Uh, Trish, you think that’s a good idea?” my husband Dave asked.

“Sure, we’ll just get everyone to back up,” I assured him.

Joel lifted the weighty bat and swung. Nothing. The Death Star was indestructible. After each kid had an unsuccessful try with the bat, I realized I had overdone it on the Elmer’s glue.

“Get the saw,” I instructed Dave, “before these kids lose interest.”

They watched, wide-eyed, as my husband hacked at the Death Star with a hand saw, strategically perforating the piñata in a few places.

Joel made his move, and with a single whack, the candy was set free. The junior Jedi’s swarmed the structural remains.

Homegrown birthday galas weren’t just for my three boys. I looked forward to my daughter Chloe’s girly parties of princesses and make-pretend. Her parties were devoid of danger and weaponry. Girls are much more civilized.

When Chloe was eight, she had a horse infatuation. She sketched horses, she played with toy horses. She even asked for a horse for her birthday.

I decided to throw her a Pony Party.

First, I had to get my hands on some ponies. This technically bent my “no organized party” rule a bit, but I frankly was pretty excited about hosting live animals at my house, so I made an exception.

After a few calls, I found a woman who would bring two ponies to our suburban subdivision, provided we had a big enough backyard.

“We don’t give rides down the street,” she explained. “Some neighborhoods aren’t keen on that, and I don’t want my ponies getting spooked by cars.”

I assured her that our home was the perfect pony hangout.

The day of Chloe’s birthday party, the pony ladies pulled up to our curb. All the girls squealed in delight as the two ponies made their pokey way to our backyard. Chloe and her friends took turns taking pony rides while we took photos. It was equestrian birthday heaven.

After the ponies had left, we were inside opening presents when I got a call from my neighbor.

“Uh, did you have horses at your place today?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes…” I replied. What, did I breach a zoning law or something?

“I just wanted to let you know that one of them left something on our street.”

Oh no! “Thanks!” I answered brightly. I hung up and ran out to the curb to a mound of pony poop.

This was not my idea of party cleanup. But still, it was better than any offsite farm party, as far as I was concerned. And far cheaper.

I scooped the poop, quickly washed my hands and rejoined the party.

Yep, this is what kids backyard birthday parties are all about —good, clean fun and a few surprises along the way. No amount of money can buy that.

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One Response to “Backyard Birthday Surprises”

  1. Hi Trish – I’ve enjoyed exploring your blog and am delighted your backyard was once the Aussie Outback!

    When my son was young (can’t imagine your FOUR!), he too loved bday parties in our backyard. They were the best, and precious memories.

    Cheers and happy writing,
    Carolyn (from memoir class)

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