'I only have one rule for attending birthday parties for my friends' kids. I refuse to go to the rest.'

Let me start by saying I love my friends. I really do. I've been through all the milestones with them — the wild nights out in our 20s, the tearful breakups, the weddings that left us dancing until dawn.

And now, we've entered the era of parenthood. As much as I adore their little bundles of joy, I've come to a realisation: I'm only committing to one birthday party per child — the first one. After that, I'm out.

Now, before you label me as the world's worst friend, hear me out. I'm not anti-kid, and I'm definitely not anti-birthday. But there's something about the ritual of the annual child's birthday party that, well, loses its sparkle after the first go-round.

The first birthday is special — undeniably so. It's a celebration of survival (let's be real, it's mostly for the parents). It's the culmination of sleepless nights, endless nappy changes, and a year's worth of firsts. I want to be there for that. I want to clink glasses with my friends and marvel at how far they've come.

Plus, let's be honest: the kid won't remember it, but the parents will. And I want them to remember me showing up, grinning from ear to ear, ready to celebrate this monumental achievement.

But here's the thing: after that first year, birthday parties take on a different vibe. They become a conveyor belt of sugar-fuelled chaos, where the main attractions are bouncy castles, face painting, and a cacophony of screaming kids.

Watch: The pinterest-worthy kid's birthday cake that you can pull together at the last minute. Post continues below.

Don't get me wrong — there's a place for that. It's just not a place I particularly want to be after doing it once. The novelty of watching a toddler dive face-first into a cake wears off quickly, especially when you realise you'll be doing this annually for the next decade or so.

More importantly, I've noticed that these parties start to become less about the parents and more about the kids (as they should!).

But this shift means that the gathering is no longer the adult catch-up I signed up for; it's a kid-centric extravaganza. And as much as I love hearing about the latest Peppa Pig episode or the newest Paw Patrol toy, I'm just not the target audience.

And let's talk about the social aspect. These parties used to be a chance to see my friends, catch up on life, and maybe even enjoy a sneaky glass of wine while the little ones napped.

But as the children get older, the dynamic changes. My friends are in full-on parent mode, chasing after their kids, organising games, and managing meltdowns.

It's like trying to have a deep conversation in the middle of a theme park: distracting, noisy, and ultimately, not very satisfying.

So, I've made a pact with myself: I'll be there for the first birthday, front and centre, gift in hand. I'll ooh and ahh over the baby's outfit, take pictures, and celebrate the milestone with all the enthusiasm I can muster. But after that, I'm gracefully bowing out. I'll send a thoughtful gift, maybe a cute card, and I'll check in with my friend to hear how the day went. But I'm not spending my Saturday afternoons at a toddler's birthday party when I could be grabbing brunch with my friend, sans kids, for some quality catch-up time.

This decision isn't about being selfish; it's about recognising that my time with my friends is precious. I want our interactions to be meaningful, not spent on the sidelines of a kiddie carnival.

I want to hear about their lives, their challenges, their triumphs — not just how many cupcakes little Timmy managed to eat before he crashed from the sugar high.

And you know what? My friends get it. They really do.

They understand that this isn't about me not loving their kids, because I absolutely do. But they also appreciate that I'm choosing to invest in our friendship in a way that works for both of us.

We can still celebrate their children's milestones together, just in a different way. Maybe that's over a quiet dinner, or during a spa day, or even a weekend getaway where we can talk uninterrupted.

So, here's to the first birthdays, the only ones I'll be attending. After that, let's leave the cake smashing to the toddlers and save our Saturday afternoons for each other. Because at the end of the day, our friendship deserves to be celebrated too.

Feature Image: Supplied.