Kids and the City

There’s Nothing ‘Goody’ About Them: Saying No to the Goody Bags

I’ll never forget when a 3-year-old Wyatt stopped my sister-in-law on her way out the door after sharing a birthday dinner for Brett (who was turning 29) with us and yelled, “you can’t leave without a treat!”  After asking me where the goody bags were and hearing that there weren’t any, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He ran his chubby little toddler legs to the pantry and pulled out a box of Twinkies (where those came from, I haven’t a clue).  He then proceeded to pass out an individually-wrapped Twinkie to our guests and thank them for coming to the party.

 That’s when I knew it had to end.

As endearing as his graciousness was, the fact that he thought they needed a treat for attending a party was scary to me.

When I was a child, we had fun birthday parties where we played games.  The parents in charge actually had to participate and help us too, instead of paying someone else to do it or simply depositing us in a supervised facility to leave themselves to discuss the latest celebrity gossip. Maybe we made something to take home, or went somewhere as a group to do something that the birthday-girl/boy wanted, like ride ponies. 

Many of these parties were thrown on a budget, but the kids wouldn’t have known that, nor did it matter.

And, at the end of it all, we would eat cake, watch the presents get opened and then go home feeling lucky to have been included in the birthday person’s special day.

That was enough.

I can’t remember the first time I saw a goody bag filled to the brim with cheap goods and enough candy to make Halloween look like small potatoes.  But I do know that by the time my first-born’s first birthday rolled around, the practice was in full swing.

Just having found my mothering footing, I played the game, for a while, but I always thought the practice to be ridiculous.  After all, aren’t the guests supposed to bring a gift for the birthday person, instead of being lavished with gigantic goody bags to thank them for bestowing their presence at the party?

It seemed wrong to me.

Finally, I found myself brave enough to stand up to this nonsense last year.

It took me long enough, always searching for the coolest “theme” for my kid’s parties and the matching goody bags to go with them.  Always being annoyed when some bratty kid would ask me in the first five minutes of a party, what was in the goody bags?  Always being harried after returning home from a party to find my home and my car littered with the remains of the goody bags that my children had received.  And feeling let down when they were more absorbed with themselves than watching their friend open a gift that was thoughtfully chosen just for them, which used to give me so much pleasure as a child.

I felt like it was all the goody bags fault.

So last year was the year of “the change”.

“No more!” I declared.

No more will we spend hours at the party store selecting cheaply-made plastic fodder that will find it’s way into the garbage cans of our friends and family within 24 hours of attending one of our parties!

I knew that it would mean a lot more work on my part, but I wanted desperately to give this experience to my kids before it was too late.

We started with Wyatt’s 8th birthday party, held at the movie theater.  Of course there were treats to enjoy during the movie, Open Season, and a piece of real film strip to take home after we toured the behind-the-scenes area of the theater, but there were no goody bags.  Nada. Zip. Zilch.

On the ride home, I expected to hear complaining from some of his friends, but I didn’t.  All the kids were happy and content with the experience and talked wildly about the cool gifts that Wyatt had opened, hoping that they would be invited over to play with them soon.

A few weeks later, Katie had her 3rd birthday party.

We invited her close friends over for cheese and crackers and a dress-up princess party.  The girls made crowns and danced silly dances.  They played and pretended. 

Nobody asked for a goody bag then, either.

I began to think that this was going to work.

We had a few months before the real test, my oldest’s birthday, the child who had been exposed to more birthday greediness than his brother and sister, therefore possibly the hardest to break of the habit.

Lo and behold, he didn’t even ask for gifts from his friends.  Instead he collected donations for the local animal shelter and sent out thank-you notes to everyone who attended, with the totals of what they, together, were able to donate.  I heard from more than one parent about how happy giving had made their child, and about how pleased they were to see this trend becoming more acceptable in our community.

Nobody complained about the lack of goody bags, either.

It’s not that I think passing out treats to kids is a bad thing.  But I really feel that we have created a generation of kids who expect this to be the highlight of the occasion; therefore, detracting from the real reason we are there in the first place - to celebrate someone’s birthday.

And I don’t want to raise my kids that way.

I want them to see the delight on their friend’s face when they open a special gift that they took hours and days to pick out for them.  I want them to know what giving feels like, for they certainly know what receiving feels like.

And even though I caved this year (I blame the pinata and it’s sugary contents) and sent the kids home with bags of candy after Wyatt’s party - there were no actual ‘goody bags’.  No ten-cent yo-yo’s or bouncy balls for the dog to choke on, no lead-based knick-knacks to litter the carpet, no bubbles that would spill anyway and become treasures to inflict massive conflicts between siblings. 

Change is a process, and I feel good that we’ve given up this ‘goody bag’ business for other, more meaningful birthday traditions, like opening presents and eating cake.

Carrie is a stay-at-home mother of three and wife to one busy firefighter.  You can read more of Carrie’s mothering meanderings at her personal blog, Third Time’s a Charm?, or send questions, topics or suggestions to carrieb{at}seattlemomblogs.com.